He’s still the one.
Ivan, that is. Who else?
We talk, occasionally, about “others” that could have been, might have been, really would never have been. We always come to the same conclusion; there was never, ever, from the very beginning, anyone else for either of us.
We’re satisfied with that, both of us. We cling to the knowledge that God had His mind set that we would meet, come to “know” each other, then marry. (We are still learning things about each other, good, and bad, but always together.)
We talk, actually, about “others” that we knew, others that tried to come between us. Looking back, there was never a chance with any of them.
I could list all of the things that threw him in my path so many years ago, but I won’t.
Well, someday.
Maybe.
Let me just leave you with this; when he caresses my overweight body, touches my thinning hair, or the beard growing on my chin; when he holds my bloated foot in his hands, kisses my swollen ankles, I know that there has never, ever been a man for me, other than Ivan.
They said it would never last. How wrong they were.
Until next time, stay safe.
Don’t forget to make whatever arrangements you need so you can get out and vote. It is the most important election of our lives to date. Fight, fight, fight.