It’d be cool to see the art. It makes me feel good.
Should I start to worry about Steve and the iPad? I haven’t been saying much to Milota about it because she’s working with the kids on a regular basis (with iPads) teaching them school stuff.
Something that I figured out since I’ve been here in combination with my time off work after coming here is that I love Milota. I think it took 11 years to get there, but I think I finally believe in love and the binding power it has, as well as the addictive potential of it.
I think Milota and I had separate worlds up to this point. Our world’s (mine of work/study and hers of children/volunteering) occasionally met up, but were separate for the most part until April. In April I made the conscious decision to focus on Milota. I knew I’d be leaving soon, and she’d need my support to care for the kids. I went with her plan for the kids, and supported in whatever way I could. I also stated to ignore any annoyance I had with her, and did everything in my power to see the world from her perspective when she had a problem with me. I also explained back to her what I thought her perspective was about me, and explained how I could see that I was wrong in the situation (I never explained how she was wrong).
The result: she started apologizing when she made a mistake, and she stopped looking for things I did to annoy her. We were fighting less. I started to want to spend more time with her. I cancelled all social and work engagements deemed unnecessary. I started to fall in love. I stared to feel more secure. She started to feel more secure. The kids seemed happier.
Now I have no doubt that love exists. I realize here in Kuwait that I like that we live in one world (or at least our two worlds are as close as I can get them). Love is kind of wonderful. I don’t miss beer or substances here. I miss Milota. I miss how she arranges the world around me to make it more beautiful. I didn’t even realize what she was doing before…but now I know. Life is not complete without her. I have an enormous hole in my heart, a lump in my throat, and I’m constantly suppressing tears as I realize that I’m continent away from, and months out from, seeing my other half again.
I don’t know if there’s only one person for each person in the world, but it feels like it. I don’t know if it takes 11 years to build love, but if it doesn’t I know that I wasted too much time in my journey to get to this point. It’s taken a lot of work to get here…all worth it.
I feel pity for all who have not experienced this. And judging from the way others talk about their wife’s I think that people that have experienced true love are in the great minority.
Hit me back, fool. -Carl