When I got married, nearly 12 years ago, I somehow lucked out and married the perfect man for me.  I’m saying its luck, but it probably has more to do with divine intervention or what some people might say the right alignment of stars.  I am serious. Ever noticed how knowing people makes you better aware of yourself?  Have you ever tried to map out the relationships you’ve had with other people and how they formed you, how the changed you or how they completely burned you out?

This idea came to me in the form of chemistry.   I don’t know how I’m not a chemist.  But, that is what people call it.  Chemistry.  The way we blend in to one another, the way we react to one another.  Sometimes its volatile, sometimes its a subtle poisoning.  Sometimes is a flash burn.  Sometimes its a slow burn.  But if you are lucky, like me–the elements are mutually respectful and tend to enhance and preserve one another.  Every single male I was ever interested in before I met my husband was the same.  Very artistic.  I am artistic, so it makes sense.  But I think the effect of two artistic people coming together is like lithium in water.  Immediate fireworks, followed by a slow burn-down.  Its easy to see why that is exciting and wonderful.  How one could get hooked on the chemical reaction.  But it doesn’t last.  It can’t last.  Just think about it.  Can you think of one artist-artist couple who survived?  I can’t.  In our society, we’re attracted to the flame. Its what we think love is, because that is how its been translated.  Even at 19, I saw the value of arranged marriages.  Of putting elements (man and woman) together in a way harmonious with the stars, instead of letting them attract each other and watch the reaction.  Just look how unsuccessful this is, usually.  Most of the time, really.

When I met my husband, something moved inside my soul.  I didn’t recognize it as love.  Because loving–to me–always meant fireworks.  With my husband it was something cool and penetrating.  I am water.  When he settled into my mind, my thoughts, it moved me.  The way that a stone dropping into water moves water.  Not steam and fire, just concentric circles radiating outward to the shore.  The energy was gentle, I didn’t understand it at first.  Now I do, and I’m so grateful.  I’m grateful for the powers that moved us together.  I’m grateful that I knew–even without knowing.  We lie together warming and cooling with the earth and its as it should be.  Beautiful, sustainable, lovely…eternal.

Lately, I’ve been brought out of the literal world.  Into a litterary world.  I’m seeing things that I would have missed before, just because I am sensative to powers that are invisible.  Ideas, emotions, the stars, attraction.  Languages of blood and electricity.  There is an explanation for everything, I’ve learned.  The answers are not as exciting as the questions, if you know what I mean.