Love. I never used to believe in love, especially growing up. I had a difficult childhood, divorced parents, physical and sexual abuse , rape, really ugly stuff. I never envisionned that I would be married or have children. It just wasn't in my dreams.
But then, I met him. And after barely three months of "dating", he asked me to marry him, to spend a lifetime with him. The top photo was taken that evening.
Shortly after, he told me he wanted to have babies with me. He also came from a broken home, but was determined to make it work.
I don't talk openly about our lives, but for some unknown reason, I feel confortable sharing it on my corner.
That evening when he proposed was almost 16 years ago, in late summer of 1994. We have had our ups and downs, but we have continued on, sometimes I am the one being optimistic about our future, sometimes it is him. With our heavy baggages, we are making it, learning together as we go.
The bottom photo was taken this past weekend. We spent a nice quiet day at the lake, after having a rough two weeks where I found myself having to deal with ugly childhood memories. He was there through it all, trying to help me, even though I was pushing him away.
Love is really a beautiful thing, and I completely believe in it.
As I get older, I find it easier to share my story little bits at a time. I hope I will not make anybody unconfortable by doing so.