My wife saw me cry. I couldn't think of any other way to start this post, there's no suspenseful way to build up that type of comment. However, the story that is involved seemed far too commonplace to cause such a reaction. It wasn't death, it wasn't tragedy nor anger, but love... of all things.
Khalil Gibran wrote of love, in his book "The Prophet":
But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
Khalil Gibran wrote of love, in his book "The Prophet":
But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
I've loved my wife since the day I met her. A day hasn't passed where I haven't told her I love her. Often times, in fact, most of the time, I assume my actions are examples of how much I love her, even the arguments! But 2 weeks ago we were having a conversation, the conversation turned passionate and I immediately realized, after 7 years of marriage I may have been asking the wrong questions, or saying the wrong things. I decided at that moment, I should not tell my wife I love her, rather, tell her what my love means, and what she means to me. As a professional egotist, explaining myself has always been quite simple... well, pride has a way of falling. See, I have always glowed in the positive moments, it's easy to love when things are going well. I seemingly only sought out loves Peace and Pleasure, forgoing the situations that allowed me to recognize and enjoy the Pleasures of love.
I walked my wife over to an arts and crafts table in our daughters' playroom. A sat across from her and before I could finish her name my vision became blurry - I felt my lips curl in an uncontrollable manor, and for the first time in my life, I stumbled, helplessly over my words. Completely and utterly incoherent, I knew, I was actually crying. My heart seemed to be travelling through my body trying to find the best place to pump blood, the chest cavity was just too far away. I felt the throbs of my heart in every extremity. I remember looking around frantically, attempting to affix my eye sight to something it could focus on - to no avail. I stopped talking...mumbling. I excused my actions by checking the time and trying a little laugh... I was crying again. I broke, I actually broke. My wife is the first person to see me cry in my adult life and it was she that broke me.
In a moment, in a flash, I was vulnerable, exposed. I don't know if that will ever happen again, we've only spoken of it one time and as quickly as the topic came up, it went away, until now. I felt weak and helpless, I looked for strength within myself and for the first time in my adult life I found nothing more than a burning sensation resonating in my chest and throat.
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