She remembers that dingy yellow that perhaps was once a creatively named hue of white, sitting on an ancient carpet which probably also absorbed many spills, noises, and memories from the two other families that ever resided there. And there they stood.
A young modern beautiful couple lost in the idea of what a happy relationship should feel like. Trying to make this love work for a third time! Some probably questioned “What is wrong with them?.” Some others believed they crossed paths again for a deeper reason. He idolized his parents’ marriage and wanted many things, unaware of the the sacrifices required to achieve them. She wasn’t asking for much, just a scroll long list of expectations accompanied by a barrel of morals, values and principals, half of which she barely knew how to apply.
The idea of a whole house just for them almost gave the already damaged relationship a glimmer of hope. So they painted and ripped the carpet. They experimented and failed so they painted all over again, as a family. That might actually be her last happy memory of their relationship.
Sure there were laughs and expressions of love, as well as pleasant visits from people they loved, but within these walls, there were multiple pain bodies. There were tears and hurtful words, shouting and slamming of doors. They broke their home from the very core. She sat around staring at the walls wondering where all the love had gone. She was convinced it was gone.
Relationships should be challenging, not toxic.
Six months after she abruptly left, they were faced with the loss of his loving mother and she found herself within those same walls offering comfort and support. Sure, it’s a beautiful thing. They are better friends than they are lovers it seems, so let this fourth round be the final attempt at being good to one another. She figured maybe they will succeed at being respectful, loving, caring, and positive forces for one another.
She sat in the living room of what was once her home, staring at the walls, trying to ignore the loud memories that would expedite the undeniable realization that she is still in love. She has never loved this hard before. As much as she wants to hold his hands, kiss his soft lips and gaze into his beautiful eyes, she knows it would be a crime.
“He’s like cheese. I love it, but its no good for my health”
She has made a choice to stick around and support him, she wants to witness him reach his highest potential and ultimate happiness, something she hasn’t seen since she first met him long ago. She is willing to be a real friend even if that means saying no years from now, when her grandchildren want to know about the love of her life, and ask with confidence in their voices, if the grandpa who they love, is that.