My time on the blogs has been very scarce lately. This capstone course for my masters program is intense and, at times, grueling, but it will be over July 28. I'm proud of the work I've done on the paper this semester, and there is a possibility for the work to become part of a published book and the basis for a discussion panel at an upcoming IEEE conference. Yeah, you could say I'm proud. I've worked for it, though.
Another beautiful thing has happened in my life. A woman I met over a year ago, with whom I've been walking the recovery path, with whom I have become great friends, is going to the next level with me, and I am in love. It's not a flash in the pan. It's not an impulse. It has been growing for over a year. I've come to respect her and love her. I've seen the good and the bad, as has she with me. She's seen me at my worst, and she loves me anyway. Likewise, I have loved her through her ups and downs. Gradually, the love grew. Our conversations became longer. We began spending almost every day together in some way. She was the last voice I heard before I fell asleep at night. When she finally kissed me, I just about melted. It was exactly right.
She is a woman of service, which earns my respect. She is employed in a service-oriented field and goes to my church. She has been at that church for 22 years and is integral to what they have become. She gives of herself and her time to others. I couldn't ask for a woman with a kinder heart. Like me, she is also an animal lover, and she is gentle and caring. Her friends obviously respect and love her. They want her to be happy, and they are being very supportive, as are mine. I haven't had anyone who knows us caution me. I haven't had anyone say, "Hey, slow it down, you hardly know her." Because they know. They've known us all this time.
This is no Match.com meeting. This is no U-Haul it across state lines. This is the most intense and deep love I have felt since... well, ever. It's the most real that love has felt since I got married at age 20. There is none of that feeling that I'm sweeping things under the rug, brushing off things that bother me. I feel like I can talk to her about any feeling that comes up.
I can't wait to see where it goes. For now, let's just say that I am in love, for what I hope is the last time in my life. Maybe life really does begin at 50.