In high school, following the
strict parenting practices I was wise to respect, (Black Star Girl, Pages 92-93) it didn’t make good sense for me to even dream
of sneaking into a teen romance. No
problem - I would date when I got away to college. That didn’t work out too well either. It was my choice. I didn’t want to risk a love relationship
getting in the way of earning my degree.
In spite of the slow road I traveled toward
love, with my BS Degree in hand, I met and married the love of my life. I
divorced him as well. Hey, it was a wonderful romance, while it was. (Although it may seem as if I’m laughing now –
I wasn’t then.)
After that marriage break-up,
relationships would be a matter of me pursuing love, and God saving me from
destruction by removing him from my life - whether my heart was broken or
not. The guy I wanted always found another. The
Good Lord knew best. I would find love.
In recent years - frequently enough to feed my ego - a once serious love interest
telephones to profess his poor judgement in letting me go. I silently relish the pleasure of hearing he
regretted his decision. Then yesterday,
after such a telephone conversation, another thought came to mind. I’m thinking, it’s just that the years have
passed and I must be the last one standing.
Now on the eve of Valentines’
Day, Whitney Houston is singing to me - clearly and beautifully, words directed
to children. But I know, from personal experience, instructive to adults as well.
“The greatest love of all is
easy to achieve
Learning to love yourself
It is
the greatest love of all.”
May you know a Happy
Valentine's Day.
Rest In Peace Whitney Houston. We Love You.
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