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The first time, I had a need to stay in and he had to go out.
The first time, I needed him and he needed life.
The first time, I lost so much and he didn’t know what to do.
The first time, I had my dreams. And he had his.
I and he.
It was like being a part of an endless boxing match. Each of us trying to measure our opponent from across the ring. Retreating to our corners. Many advances, no uppercuts, no right hooks, nada. It’s what happens when an extrovert marries an introvert. We knew so little, but faced so much. The introvert got stuck in her shell, big enough for two, and the extrovert didn’t get the space constrictions. He did what those extroverts do. He pushed, prodded, and poked.
So we measured, and approached, and retreated. Over and over again. Only to give up the fight; we left the ring with not a victor in sight. We let life defeat us. Sign, sealed, delivered, it was over.
Time passed and we both trained in earnest. We entered fights in which our opponent was a reflection in glass. When you fight a reflection, you learn all of its moves. We weren’t together but we had hearts you couldn’t really separate (cliché-much?) When we entered the ring again, we were ready. Older and wiser, who knows? (cliché-forgive me) We learned to stop throwing them and instead to roll with the punches that life threw our way. The second time is different.
The second time, I have a need to stay in. So we stay in.
He gets the space constrictions.
The second time, he has to go out. So we go out.
I get the need for life.
The second time, we have lost so much and we know what to do.
We get the need to lean.
The second time, I need him. And he needs me.
We get each other.
The second time, I have dreams and we celebrate them.
He helps make them happen.
The second time he has dreams and we celebrate them.
I help make them happen.