Wednesday, November 29, 2017

When I say I love you...

I turned 69 years old yesterday. I got up, showered, and dressed as though I was going to a party. The party was at my house and I had only a few internet and telephone guests. Physically, I was the only one in attendance and it was an awesome day. The best birthday I’ve had in many, many years.
At the end of the day, I sat back and thought “How did I get so lucky?” I have three beautiful great-grandchildren, a grandson and his wife, a daughter, brothers, nieces and nephews, sisters-in-law and a variety of other family and friends.

I also have a man in my life that makes me smile. I never realized that I could be in love at this stage of my life. I always said “When my husband is gone, I never want to be involved with another man.” My life with Riley was so painfully heart-breaking that I couldn’t fathom the idea of putting myself into a position of vulnerability again. But… here I am… I must be crazy out of my mind.

Riley’s first love priority was his booze du jour. So each time he told me he loved me, I doubted his sincerity. He said it all the time. Every night before I “tucked” him into bed, he told me he loved me. It got so that I hated hearing the words “I love you.” Hmpf… meaningless waste of the air with which the words came from his mouth. I felt cruel for my disbelief and inability to return the phrase.

I once asked Riley what he meant when he told me he loved me. His explanation was that it meant he loved the way he could depend on me. He loved that I would always be there for him. I would take care of him. However, he didn’t trust me and he made that clear. Love has nothing to do with trust, says Riley. Not once did he say anything about HIS feelings. He never said that he says “I love you” because he cared more about me than any other woman. He never claimed that I was the most important woman in his life. He told me, that he loved me and wasn’t “in love” with me. He claims that he loves many women but he loves them all differently. In fact, he made it a point to tell me that in many ways I was inadequate as a woman and lover. He preferred his mistresses and his vodka. He would not have chosen me to be his end-of-life companion but I was the last one standing.

The words of love for Riley from me were non-existent. The phrase stopped having meaning for me and I only want to tell someone I love them when I could truly mean what I say. There are many different levels of love and I once had given Riley every bit of my heart, but after a while I couldn’t give any to him at all.

I love my grandchildren, family, and friends. I love chocolate mousse. I love my pets. That kind of love means I’ll protect you and care for you. But it’s totally different for the love I feel for the man in my life. I will call him Sam, but that’s not his real name.

When I tell Sam I love him, it means that I want him to be happy above all else. It means that I will give myself only to him. The biggest thing is that it means I trust him and he can trust me. I will be his best friend, confidant, care giver and will put him above any other man who may venture into my life. I want the best for him even if it means that we don’t end up together. I’m happy when he laughs. He can tell a white lie and I’ll swear it’s the truth. My love for him is unconditional. I don’t want to change him even though he is not perfect.

I believe an important part of loving a person is being comfortable with being a part of that person’s life. A person is not just a single entity, but rather a compilation of all people he cares about. It’s the things that interest him like his hobbies and work. For me, loving a person is not just about “oh, baby, baby, you’re so beautiful, blah, blah”. I don’t love Sam for his looks, although he is handsome. I don’t love him because he is financially secure, although it helps to know he won’t be dependent on me for his next meal. I love him for who he really is as a person. I love him because I feel incredibly good, happy, beautiful because of the way he treats me even when we are fighting. People in love DO fight and it’s not the end of the world. I learned that from Sam.

In my opinion, being in love with an alcoholic is not a healthy kind of love. It is very conditional. I always loved Riley more when he was sober and not so much when he was drunk. Eventually there was no love but was replaced with obligation. I spent years believing I was OK – happy – content with the way things were. But I realize now that I was in denial. We were married for fifty years and I think I was only “in love” for a total of 10 years. However, I made a commitment to Riley and to my children to take care of him and I did just that. I was morally and legally bound to Riley for what was the rest of his life.

Being loved by an alcoholic does not incite a satisfying feeling of mutual respect and concern. In fact, loving an alcoholic is always work without reward. It is a one-way street where the love is always from the non-alcoholic partner to the alcoholic. There is no true affection returned. While being in a healthy, loving relationship is a give and take of affection from each partner. It isn’t a forced exchange. It generates happiness. It just happens and is accepted by each other.

We are all a work in progress. My relationship with Sam is just that. I don’t know where it will go. We may not sit in rockers next to each other as the rest of the world moves around us. Our love may not be a “happily ever after” or “everlasting”. But, it is here and now. It may not be conventional. Sam and I are a bit of a different breed. We are both opposite and alike. We are seldom in the same room at the same time. We’ve known each other for 20 years but are just now learning who we are. But, I will always have that unforced “deep abiding affection” for him no matter what happens for us in the future.

Does Sam love me? For him it’s all about actions and not words. He has said it and I treasure the moment of that confession. But… he doesn’t easily trust and I understand that. This post isn’t about how much he loves or doesn’t love me. It’s about how different it is to love a man who doesn’t put alcohol as a priority over people.

I didn’t know that I could be this happy. I didn’t know that love could feel so good. At the age of 69, I have discovered what it truly means when I say “I love you.”

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Linda, I hadn't checked in on your blog in a while so I was shocked to see that Riley passed at the end of September. (I guess I really did start to think he was immortal.)
I am so greatly relieved for you and happy to see that you are going on with life and loving again. I think of you often and I am glad that you too, are now at a level of peace.
All the best to you,
Sarah

Anonymous said...

Love, love, love that you have found love!!!

Anonymous said...

You deserve it.