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Traditional Kind of Love

CakeTopperGuz Viewz – The perspective from our Senior Editor and word wrangler, Kathy Guzman.

Just three days ago – in a once upon a time and oh so long ago place – I would have celebrated my 28th wedding anniversary with a man I had married when I was barely in my 20’s. We were not made for each other and not destined to live the dream together forever and ever – traditional as that time in my life may have seemed. Two amazingly beautiful Costa Rican Irish babies and a history that is tucked away in a safe place of understanding is all that is left of that life.

So my mind wanders through memories and the silent wonders of my life race in and out of my open heart as I reflect on what was then and what is now. There were the years of solitude and reconstruction that followed the dissolution of a marriage. Reinvention, alteration, spiraling confusion and mid life awakenings kept me moving forward through it all. Old friends lost for reasons unclear and new friends found in the light of a different day. I had come out the other side – and my breath was easy and my eyes were clear – for the first time in almost a lifetime.

And as I stood comfortably alone almost a year ago – on new and peaceful ground – a smile took my balance and threw my heart to a place I dared not hope. Her eyes stole my reason and forced me to look outside of myself and dare to love again. I have fallen into the long loving arms of a beautiful girl with perfect skin and trouble making tendencies. My girl is warm and welcoming and through some wisdom that could only be God’s – she has become my home.

Twas a new feeling–something more
Than we had dared to own before,
Which then we hit not;
We saw it in each other’s eye,
And wished, it every half-breathed sigh,
To speak, but did not.

She felt my lips’ impassioned touch—
Twas the first time I dared so much,
And yet she chid not;
But whispered o’er my burning brow,
“Oh, do you doubt I love you now?”
Sweet soul! I did not. (Thomas Moore)

Definitions and acceptances of worlds and communities place me in what is called a non-traditional love – and I scream with fists clenched at the audacity of such a muted proclamation. In these eyes and in this heart no love that is love could ever be imprisoned by tradition – could ever be lessened by un-traditional barriers placed by the shallow minded in this world. I read the words of the poets and they touch me as surely as they touch any other romantic dreamer. My love is no less than your love and your love is no greater than mine – no matter who we happen to love.

“If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? (William Shakespeare)

This love I know does not crave acceptance or tolerance – those things are for the weakest of the tribes. I expect to be free from ridicule and judgment– I expect to know joy and happiness without limit and labels cultivated by unevolved perceptions created in a time that holds no relevance in this moment. All of our hearts, no matter age, color or shoe size, are capable of love. We simply have to unleash the prejudicial beast and accept that simple fact. We are not so different after all – and in the quiet uninterrupted moments of the day – I promise you – the poet speaks to me just as she speaks to you.

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About K. Guzman

Kathy grew up all over the US - lots of east coast time. She is a surfer girl with an unabridged curiosity. A woman whose mid life awakening continues to bring her to the place she was meant to be. Her degree in Journalism/Creative Writing from the University of Central Florida is being yanked from the archives and put to good use. Her two kids are grown and rock stars in this wild world – her Harley is ready for some serious summer miles – and her heart remains open to life, women and the possibilities each day brings.

Discussion

One Response to “Traditional Kind of Love”

  1. The way I see it we ended our relationship because she was feeling the pressure of me wanting to be included in her family gatherings. I was after all the love of her life. I gave her nearly a year to find the balls to bring me around her family. She didn’t have the strength to live her own life the way she wanted. She felt the truth about her homosexuality would bring an unbearable pain, as well as illness(s) to her mother. I understood when she cried about it in my arms and poured her heart out to me. I felt her pain. I was compassionate and I wished she didn’t have to experience such bullshit! Then she said to me, “We can never have holidays together my mother will not ever accept you or us together. Though I love you and you are my girl you will never be able to have holidays with me and my family. I won’t ever be able to share that part if my life with you.” Hearing this made me feel an incredible pain and emptiness. Did she just say that? We have confessed our undying love for each other. We were in love. How could she say that? I started really thinking about the implications of her words. Could I live like that? I’m precious. How could she say this to me? I was back in Chicago for 3 days when she called. “Come over and see our tree. It’s been three days since you’ve returned. Why haven’t you come over?” I told her I was having a hard time with her statement about not being able to ever be a part of her family and I was trying to figure out whether I should continue seeing her. I loved her like no other. I will always. She was an incredible light in my life. I miss her dearly. I wish she actually had the balls she pretends to have like when she’s wearing her leather and riding her Harley. I wish she could just live her life openly and freely. She deserves true love and happiness. Port A, baby! Port A! Live the life you love! It really is only love…

    Posted by Tina Marie Aguilar | May 18, 2014, 7:55 pm

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