I Am Loved
Happiness often sneaks in through a door |
you didn't know you left open.
A man loves me. A sweet, kind, clever
and honourable man loves me.
Most amazingly, he also thinks
he is in love with me.
He is nine years my junior
but I rather imagine he is in love with
the idea of loving a good woman.
Here am I...
grey haired,possessing no material wealth,
disabled to the point of requiring care
and he loves me?
A relationship with a man
is the last thing I had imagined for myself.
Forty years of marriage to a self-centred,
self-seeking, selfish soul, caused me to
close those steel trap doors to the heart
War-tattered, one imagines oneself faulty,
unworthy, un-lovely and unlovable.
It comes therefore, as a great surprise
to see myself through the eyes
of one who genuinely cares.
Oh, I love him.
I have loved him for two years now
but as a very dear friend, a brother, a confidante.
We have cried on each other's shoulders,
laughed together, prayed together,
trusted and cared.
I am not in love.
He understands and accepts this.
A great happiness is bestowed
with the knowledge
that I am still a desirable woman
in the eyes of one person
for whom I care a great deal.
And that once injured heart is quite mended.
Thank you, God.
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