Love First, Love Last
“It was a case of hot pants!” said John. He didn’t want healing. He just wanted to talk, so he and Maria decided to stay in the lounge room. Before he started, he wanted assurance about confidentiality.
“It’s a legal requirement,” said Maria. Satisfied, he explained that he was the CEO of a successful business and he wanted his personal life to stay personal. In fact, he hadn’t shared the issue with anyone, including, his wife. Particularly, his wife.
“As I said, my wife and I married young by today’s standards,” continued John. “We are only in our late forties but we have been married for twenty-five years. Mostly it was too much heat in the pants in our early twenties. Over the years, the passion turned into a respectful partnership and we are still raising our children. I have been very busy with work and kids and, frankly, I never had much time for interpersonal mumbo-jumbo. I couldn’t see the point of it until I met Sally two years ago. I don’t know why, but I adore her. I think about her all the time. She has influenced my life in every possible way. Although I would not like to speak for her, I think she shares, at least, a little of that feeling for me.” John stared out the window. The climbing roses were creeping along the window sill. “I don’t know what to do. I have a responsibility to my wife and children. My marriage is quite…” John searched for the words. What was it exactly? If he knew, he probably wouldn’t be here. “Serviceable,” he said.
Maria laughed, “It serves a purpose.”
“Yes, it does,” said John, “and I don’t want to hurt anyone but I don’t know that I will ever have an opportunity like Sally again. Not to be dramatic but I feel I can’t live without her. She has opened a door for me and I cannot go back to the blind way I seemed to stumble in the darkness before. It all seems somewhat meaningless now.”
“Do you think you could speak with your wife about it?” asked Maria. “Or begin the conversation anyway.”
“That might be the end of the marriage,” said John.
“Maybe,” said Maria, “maybe not. Are you sleeping with Sally?”
“I know it seems strange,” said John, “to love someone that much and not be intimate with them but no, we are not. I am not willing to take the risk that it would be the beginning of the end. The relationship is too important to me.”
“It’s not strange,” said Maria, “and it means you haven’t had to lie which saves you a lot of guilt. Guilt is a slow killer. Better to learn how to be more open and let life take its course than live with lies. Lies rob us of our trust and we project our untrustworthiness onto everyone around us. Have you ever noticed that the innocent are very trusting? They neither lie nor hold other people’s lies against them. Liars, on the other hand, see sabotage everywhere.” Maria paused. “Do you love your wife?”
“Yes, I do,” John said without hesitation. “Not like I love Sally, but I do. My love for Sally is blissful.” He smiled. “Maybe, blissfully crazy.”
“Well, we do say we fall in love,” replied Maria. “What can be reasonable or sensible about falling in love? It is crazy, high risk. It is, also, blissful because we see the divine in the other and they give the same to us.” Maria stopped to let the divine presence settle into the room. She waited for John to feel the calm, reassuring energy. “In love relationships,” she said, “we become each other’s teachers. Do not be afraid of love or the course it will take. There is no certainty in life. Choose love first and choose love last and it will give you far more than you ever give it.”
John stood at the front door and shook Maria’s hand warmly, “I was despairing,” he said, “that there could be any right answer. I still don’t have the answer but I have a direction to go.” He looked at the wall hanging behind Maria. It read,
Except for love, nothing you see will remain forever.