Happy Anniversary Sweetheart.

Today fourteen years ago I did the best thing I had done in my entire life. I married you.

Have a wonderful day

Love Mark

I tend to become particularly reflective around Christmas.
I don’t know why. Maybe it’s that the end of the year is approaching and I’m looking back with perhaps a frown, or a smile.
This in turn ordinarily leads me to the Christmas’s of my childhood.
It’s just something I’ve always done.
I digress. My apologies.
When I was a little girl one of my favourite sayings was “I wish…..” followed by whatever current dream/hope/want was running rampant through my fanciful little head.
My mothers response, every time, was “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride” accompanied by a smile.
At that time, only being little, the actual meaning behind her repsonse was lost on me.
In my innocence, before life dished up some harsh lessons, I seriously believed these wishes would come true.
These days, as an older and more street wise adult, I don’t so much wish, as hope.
I believe with every fibre of my being that to give up on hope is to throw in the towel on life.
I refuse point blank to do that. Ever.
Sure, life gets to me now and then, I’ll admit that. Yet even through those times, I still carry hope inside me. I may not speak of it, but make no mistake, it’s there.
I can almost see it inside me, if that makes sense?
When I visualise hope, it’s bright and shining like a beacon.
When shadows threaten to blot it out, there is a glimmer which continues to peep through, just in the corner.
It’s that little glimmer keeps me going through the darkness.
Almost seems to guide me through to the other side of whatever troubles me.
Just a tiny spark that tells me everything will work out for the best even if I don’t understand why what’s happening, is happening {Which is quite often I might add}
It’s warm, fuzzy, but most of all it’s comforting.
I’ve always found it strange how a feeling such as hope can generate such comfort inside.
If I had to verbalise it as a taste, it would be sugar.
Maybe it’s the sweet taste that makes me hang onto hope so tight?

This is a post I did some time ago, and it was one of the most popular I ever did.
I know it’s cheating, but hey, we all have to cheat now and then right?
Back me up here people!!!
;-)
The title of this post was:

It’s not exclusive

Why is it many young people of today {now how old does THAT make me sound???} think love is an exclusive emotion only felt by people between 15 and 30?

What makes them think people lose the desire, or indeed, the ability, to love as they age?

Do they think we know nothing of love? Romance? Or {shock horror!!!} making love?

Let me assure, I could, without a doubt, give some damned good lessons on making love. Love does not consist of one long fuck! {not that there’s anything wrong with the odd one of those let me say!!}

Do they seriously believe their parents created a family through virginal births? When will they realise there’s only ever been one immaculate conception, it wasn’t theirs, and that their parents actually “did it”??

The other question I would like to ask is what makes people think love is only a feeling as opposed to actions?

I’m a romantic at heart. I love picnics, candlelit dinners, having Mark buy me flowers because he knows the ones he saw are my favourites. {tulips if you’re thinking of sending any!}

When we got married our “reception” was fish and chips, with white wine, by the lights of the Sydney Harbour Bridge as the QE2 left dock at Circular Quay {a well timed event, not planned btw} We didn’t need a big fancy place, or have the need to spend squillions of dollars on a huge to do as seems to be the norm these days.

I don’t see that as romantic in any way shape or form.

When will people realise love is holding their loved one’s head as they vomit because they’re so exhausted and ill, that they can’t?

It’s a million and one little things you do. The look that can pass without words and still be understood.

The unspoken understanding that sometimes you just shouldn’t watch your favourite show at full volume.

The times you DON’T do something you want to because you know your partner would prefer not to.

True love endures.

It’s strong.

It’s resilient.

It also needs to be nurtured, and caressed, and that takes time. It doesn’t suddenly vanish once you reach a certain age.

True, deep love, can sustain a person through almost any event which may befall you. Death, disease, tragedy, all the things that shake a person to the core. It’s having someone beside you that can soothe, hold and comfort you without the need for words. They’re just “there”. They just “do”. they give you the strength to deal with it without even having to try. They just “are”.

Love is not exclusively for the young, nor is it merely a feeling. It’s actions, words, and the ability to love someone despite their faults. Accepting their imperfections, as they accept yours.

When you love, you should love unconditionally.

And what’s with trying to “change” something you don’t like about the person you love? If they change, does that not make them different to the person you fell in love with?

When will the young realise love doesn’t diminish with time? It becomes stronger, and deeper.

It gets better with age.