Mr. Curry and I circa young, drunk and in the middle of the desertA long time ago, in a galaxy far far away, two people had more mind blowing sex than is really compatible with normal life like working, parenting...eating.
First, they were friends.
And then, they began, as two single parents, to raise their boys together, as friends.
And then, years later, the sexy.
And then, they fell in love.
And then, they were married.
And now, they are having a baby.
They did everything completely backward, at the wrong times and often with a lot more bumbling around
than was good for anyone.
They love each other. Real love. This means even when the other person's facial expression makes them want to sock a kitten, they still love. So that when they are happy, they are even happier than that, because they moved through the unhappy times with such loyalty and perseverance. So that when the hard times come round again, and feelings are hurt or ignored or needs unmet, they balance this against all the rest of the times, and know that still, they are blessed. So that the passing of time becomes not only just 'life', but also a marker and a reminder every day that they have the stuff of life right there in their hands, the stuff that as CS Lewis says, sharpens the sword of the soul. Cutting right through the bullshit to the tremendous beauty of love, in it's best and it's worst times, with and without makeup, well rested or sleep deprived, angry or calm, bitter or accepting, adoring or frustrating, desired or repelled, in all it's forms and functions from brewing tea to midnight flings on the living room floor, from whispered sobbed secrets to shouts of glee-- to be in it together, a team, a family, from ' remember that awful July? ' to ' wasn't that November the best ever? '-- the simple duration of connecting, and reconnecting, even when it is exhausting, to keep reaching out again; one of the highest pursuits of human life.
Only, connect.
Plus, there is still the sexy.
