The Final Boy I Loved, Entry #17

Some people deny where they were born and how the landscapes in which they grew up influenced them.  There is no use in denying it, though, nature seeps into the bones as the body grows.  It cannot be helped.  Then, no matter what travels are taken or where people end up living permanently, the soul longs for the original landscape.  Ocean people still feel steady tides and rhythms pulling at them.  Farmers and ranchers awake early before the sun, even if they are visiting a city.  Midwesterners want broad horizons to look at and city dwellers love the hum of activity.  You can spot mountain people anywhere - even on the flatest land - their eyes are always looking up wistfully and the sigh "I miss the mountains" is their mantra.

Most people find a way to fill the longing by choosing a companion that matches the landscape that molded them.  I lived in the shadow of a large mountain that had a ridge of bony rocks that formed a question mark.  There was even a large washed out circle at the base that made a perfect dot.  Maybe that is the reason I was always asking "Why?"  The mountain's presence was always felt - never obtrusive, never overpowering - perhaps like a Grandfather clock in a cozy room, glanced at every day to measure time.

After all my searching and wading through many people, I finally met a man who matches the mountains.  I said the same when we made our vows.  D'Artagnan feels like he's been molded for thousands of years.  He continually presses himself upward to meet God while life's circumstances carve walls, precipes, and caverns out of him.  It makes him who he is - jagged in some places and achingly beautiful in others.  He is strong, noble, protective, and wise.  His presence is always felt.  Some are intimidated, others give him a cursory glance, and once in in awhile a person recognizes the challenge to get to know him will be well worth the climb - at the top are spectacular vistas.

Our love story is unusual and our meeting too sacred to put on a blog, but all of that doesn't seem as important as where we are now and where we are heading.  We've shared almost nineteen years knowing each other - creating a family with four beautiful children and the children D'Artagnan brought with him to the marriage.  He is the last thing I look at at night and the first thing I see in the morning.  We've moved into a comfortable rhythm of being completely part of one another.  I am he and he is me.  His chest is my pillow-my refuge.  My eyes are his home.


If you want to read a little more about how I knew he was the one, here is an essay I wrote for Segullah - The Skin I'm In.