Chapter 1
I rarely reminisce about the time before you, my love. It can be fun to recount stories from my mischievous youth, but to me they are only stories. I feel no connection to the child I was. I only recognize myself when I’m with you. Without you, I am incomplete, with a cold emptiness inside me that I never noticed until we became one.
Do you remember how excited I was when we started dating? We were just two immigrants in this strange country trying to get by.
You adapted quicker than I ever could. I’m still impressed by how diligently you studied the language, and I loved watching you make small talk with the people in our new country. In contrast, before long I found work with people from our home country who were trying to build a life but had no interest in learning the language or understanding the culture.
While my language skills improved at a turtle’s pace, our love moved in leaps and bounds. The joy I felt when we tied the knot and, without hesitation, started a family is still unmatched. After that, life became a lovely, chaotic dream, full of all the ups and downs that come with family life.
It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, but I could soldier through the hard days knowing you had my back. When I worked two jobs, toiling at the factory during the day and entertaining with the band at night, you were there waiting when I dragged my weary body back home. As the kids got older, and I drove them to countless hockey and soccer games, we still found time to connect, my love. A team is only as strong as the chemistry between its leading players. Likewise, our family stayed close-knit because we spent whatever time we could together, making sure our love endured.
Sure, we squabbled, but is bickering really a sign that love is doomed to fail? I never thought so. If anything, it showed we were honest with each other. It showed we had not given up. Show me a couple who smile and nod whenever there’s an issue, and I’ll show you two people who likely won’t be together much longer. No relationship is ever perfect. No two people are entirely compatible, and life’s countless trials and tribulations occasionally cause even the most steadfast of us to act irrationally, which usually spills over onto the rest of the family.
Nevertheless, your family braces through the storm and then rushes to support you. Is there any greater blessing? They know you are struggling, yet love you all the same.
So we clashed, and yes, usually I was the root cause. I can be hard to live with sometimes. If stubbornness were an Olympic sport, our house would be filled with gold medals. So, of course, we quarrelled. You were never one to bite your tongue when I was out of line, and when that met my unwillingness to back down, it made for some intense battles. But eventually there was peace. Love always prevailed.
When I consider who I am, I only ever see myself with you by my side. Not the child running through those tiny streets in the village where I grew up, and not much of the man I am without you.
As I sit on this frigid bench, the cold winter wind biting at the exposed skin on my face, my heavy eyelids close and your smiling face stares back at me.
My other half.
That is what you are to me, and it is agonizing to accept any reality that doesn’t contain you.
