When is Enough,Enough?

     "Have you been loved enough?" That question is posed by the heroine of "The Crowning Glory of Calla Lily Ponder"(by Ya Ya author Rebecca Wells) to her soulmate. It is my favorite line in the book, and got me thinking along the same vein. Have I been loved enough?

     These past two years have been hard. Letting go of a longtime love; knowing it was over and making it done. Learning that, in as much as we were unique in our marriage, we will be unique in our divorce; and be friends. Trying to understand what that means. Building my own boundaries in that relationship and knowing that that is ok. (I am very poor at letting other people down. I don't like to do it. I'll compromise myself before allowing myself its own comfort.)

        So,now I go on. I may find other loves. I may not. But in this time of reflection and restructure, I find myself analyzing (as I always do) this past relationship. It was good for so long before it went bad. And when he loved me, he loved me well. He said "I love you" everyday. And it never got old. He would warm my side of the bed on cold nights. Raised my daughter as his own. Cherished my accomplishments. Shared household duties. Accompanied me to doctors visits.  Always held my hand when we were out. Sadly, the love that burned so very hot, died as fiercely as it lived. And when it was over, it was OVER.

        Have I been loved enough? Can I rightfully say no? When I was cherished and adored for even part of my life, when there are others who never receive that gift?  Perhaps not. But honestly, it is where I land.  I LOVE loving and being loved.  Feeling cherished and adored and cherishing and adoring right back. The sweet, delicious electric ache that rises between you and settles in your hands; leaps through your fingers and flows everywhere you touch one another. The lovely thrill of forehead kisses. The charm of home in someones arms.  The oh so sweet "just need to know you're there" feel of a beloved foot seeking yours under the bedclothes when no other parts of you are touching; and the arch of belonging that flows between that touch when it makes contact.  Have I been loved enough?
Oh, no. And I have not yet loved enough, by far.