It’s impossible to hold on to the fresh feeling of new love. “True love,” as it were, grows and changes and molds itself to your life, or perhaps your life molds around the love.
Last night Matt was playing his guitar for Jaden. After he played “My Bonnie” I started looking for my old Beatles Anthology CDs because there’s a really fun cover of “My Bonnie” on the first anthology. I didn’t find it. Instead I found about 15 mixed that Matt and I made back before Jaden was born, ie: our courtship years.
I showed Matt my treasure and how I came by it and he promptly went downstairs and dug out a giant plastic bin full of all the CDs we deemed too precious to sell when we converted to digital files. “I got your back, babe!” He said and he planted the bin in front of me. Not only did I find my Beatles collection but about 100 photos from our early years.
Today I’m sitting in a cubicle listening to these CDs, much like I did nine years ago when he made them for me. The butterflies are missing from my tummy and have been replaced by warm nostalgia. I could make the argument that this nostalgia is stronger than any new flutterings. Instead of analyzing every line of every song for hidden meaning behind my new boyfriend’s choices, I’m remembering long bus rides to my love’s apartment; standing in the cold waiting for that bus; lying in bed watching him get his gear together for a show; replacing his screensaver with the words I didn’t have the nerve to say aloud; hearing those words from him; laying in the grass watching the sunrise and handing him a fallen leaf (which he still has); games of dirty scrabble; building forts in the livingroom and watching old cartoons on rainy days.
15 years of friendship
9 years of love
5 years of marriage (in September)
New love is exciting, scary, spicy and full of risk. True love is comfortable, sweet, responsible, and less risky. And I get to have both of them.