Blooming in Our Own Time

I walked into my office this morning to find this gentle reflection of the week, one lone bud that was too heavy to bloom. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect symbol.

The greatest curiosity of my marriage has been a slow entwining, much like I imagine two vines fusing together. At first a strong enough wind could push us apart; even though we were planted firmly next to each other, it wasn’t always possible to hold on. But as we’ve continued to mature, we’ve circled each other enough to blow around together in the storm.

For some reason, we keep growing. We keep asking more of each other, and getting more back in return. I can feel all his shifts, and he mine. We are stronger, and we are different than when we started, but we are built on all the things we once were. If a blossom is knocked off, we’ll wait for another to bloom, because we know one will.

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