Tom and I had a death weekend two weeks ago. It was bad. It was really bad. It was like, shit’s hit the fan and it’s the worst thing ever. It was like all of the worst nightmares I’ve ever had. It was like love being ripped out of me, like love being taken away. It was the death of everything that means anything to me.

What I learned that weekend is that death can happen if we take things for granted. You’d think I’d have learned that in my long marriage that ended unexpectedly. You’d think I’d have learned that if you take love for granted, love will leave. It turns out, no, I hadn’t learned that.

That weekend he gave himself back to me. I gave my whole self to him for the first time. I let him have me, and I didn’t hold anything back or save anything for later. I just let him have me.

It was the most revolutionary and terrifying experience ever, to let someone really see me, and to accept what was going to happen. I put myself in God’s hands that weekend. I gave myself to God, and then to Tom. I let myself be open, free, and available to be loved unconditionally.

I pledge to you that being yourself in love is where the best things live.

I promise.


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