Some folks search for love all their lives and never find it. Some run into it in their teens and others when they’re seventy. Some strike it rich with their first love, and others with their second marriage. For me, the third time around was the lucky charm.
The younger my age, the more certain I was about the mystery of relationships. When I was a teenager, I used to think I knew everything about love and what it means. I thought I was wise to love’s ways. I believed that “when we fell in love we just knew it.” If it didn’t work out, then it wasn’t “meant to be.” Such were the awe-inspiring depths of my young perceptions. As I’ve aged and traveled the many roads of partnership, my previous certainties and simplifications have been blown away by the winds of experience. Now I know that I know very little, if anything at all.