BFF # 90 Sea of Love

 Sea of Love ? Just a phrase turned by a honey dripped voice? Or is the real sea of love as gritty and torn and tortured as the gravel voice of Tom Waits.  Both I think.  But it's more than that.  My sea of love? It's in my king size bed. It's in the empty spce of  my love story's low tide as I wait for the return of my husband. It's the vastness of a beach with  remote controls and magazines  and books scatttered among the six pillows , like so much flotsam washed upon the shore.


Low Tide? It's waiting for  his return from far flung places with the windburned cheeks of a an inland sea called North Dakota. It's a  sea of grass and  far away mountains and men. Across the country might as well be across the universe. The sound of his voice  brought over the miles , over the bounced off signal towers , the sea lights under the water giving false  hope that there is land and safety nearby.


High Tide? It's the roar of an airplane and the hydraulic hiss of landing gear as the tarmac greets it's steel winged vessels. Great ships of the air that carry bits of flesh to waiting outstretched arms.  It's the second in time that stretches to include all of eternity. It's the never  long enough to feel as if he is truly home. It's the run , run of the gotta go here, gotta do this gotta cram it all into this two weeks so we have enough to sustain for the next low tide.


We've done this before, and we will continue to do this again for as long as it lasts. Because this high and low tide is the one that works  for us the best.  We have had other tides. In a decade long relationship, you  will have years of low tides. You will have years of mainly high tides. Through it all, you learn to ride both tides. In this surf of love and life , the best you can hope for is enough of the good waves and someone to pick you  up out of the roilling shallows.