It was a book launch party for two incredibly talented people that I admire.
They were married and together they created a “masterwork” of a book. Two delightful souls, the kind that I wanted to sit for hours and speak with . He a musician and she a writer, my kind of tribe members, and very much in love with each other. I could see the way that M looked at S…and S had such a warmth and brightness about her, the way that she looked at him. That energy, I recognized it instantly. It reminded me of one of his Facebook posts where he called her, “His Queen”…okay…yes…they had me at that…my overly romantic sensibilities just melt for Facebook posts like that.
So of course, I had to ask my favorite question to ask any couple who are in love with each other, “Tell me your love story…how did you meet.”
M was happy to tell the tale.
“Well…we were neighbors. I would see her on walks. There was a lot of push and pull for awhile…like…” He stopped speaking and made a come hither hand gesture…then put his hand out in front of him indicating the stop signal. “You women are hard on us!” He said with a laugh.
M got pulled away to speak to another party guest. And S chimed into the conversation…”Well, yes he did live on my street. He kept coming by to pet my dog at strange hours. I thought he was some sort of trust fund baby who didn’t have to work. I didn’t realize he worked at the symphony for the longest time. Eventually we started chatting…and well…you know…” She went on talk about their recent travels, what a wonderful time they had together without the children, but also how much they loved their girls, spending time with them.
S was enchanting and clearly successful at love.
“So what’s the secret? How have you stayed together for 17 years?”
With the warmest smile and almost a laugh she responded, “Well…it hasn’t been all bliss!”
And there it was…once again. Love is just sticking together…even when it’s not all bliss. Because on the other side of that, is bliss. M and S are living proof, love….sometimes tastes like burnt toast.