Blog Title: My Peace — A Lifetime of Love Without Labels

There is a man I’ve loved since I was 15.

He moved to Seattle as a teenager, and we became fast friends. We had homeroom together, shared a few classes, even took driver’s ed side by side. We got our licenses just three months apart. We were kids navigating life, but something about our connection felt grown — a quiet understanding, a comfort, a pull.

We were intimate as teenagers… and again in our 20s… then in our 30s… and even in our 50s. There was no official relationship, no defined commitment, yet the love never left. It wove in and out of our lives like breath — returning when needed, never asking for permission.

He became My Peace.

When I moved to Vegas at 57, I left from his place. He didn’t understand the “why,” but he supported me anyway. That’s who he is. Strong. Soft. Steady. He’s never stood in the way of my growth, even when it meant letting me go.

But I missed home. I missed my family. I missed the beauty of Seattle — and I missed him.

Before I moved back, he told me he had been diagnosed with throat cancer. My heart dropped. I was able to go with him to one of his radiation and chemotherapy appointments. We spent six hours together that day, holding hands, kissing gently, like only people with history can. The medical staff thought we were a couple. Maybe we are. In a way that matters more than any title ever could.

He beat the cancer, yet he lives with other health concerns. And I have arthritis in my hips — at times I struggle to walk, I use a cane most days. And yet… the closeness remains.

Last weekend, I asked him to sit on the couch beside me. We cuddled and watched a movie. I held his arm. He held my hand. I rested in that moment, feeling more connected than any bedroom could offer.

We don’t talk or see each other often, but I feel him. Always. That’s what My Peace is to me — a love that doesn’t depend on time or proximity.

Sometimes I wish we had more time together. I even daydream about living under the same roof and finishing our lives as old loves. Then, I return to my need for solitude. We’re both like that. We love our alone time just as much as we love time with each other.

He has a son with who lives with him. I see how he navigates the quiet challenge with him with patience and strength. His son knows me — he pops out of his room now and then to say hi, he’s quiet and kind. There’s a calmness in their home, and I appreciate what he has established.

I turned 65 this July. He turned 65 in April. We’re not young anymore. The bodies we once knew have shifted. The energy has changed. But the love — it’s still vibrant, still sexy in its own sacred way.

Last weekend, I thanked him for never making me feel bad for aging… for hurting… for no longer being young or physically desirable by society’s standards. He hugged me and said softly, “Baby, you’re still sexy.”

That’s My Peace. That’s the man I’ve loved since I was 15. No one else knows me quite like he does. No one else could.

We’re not perfect. We never needed to be. But what we have is real — soft, kind, enduring, fun and full of grace.

And that, to me, is the most beautiful kind of love.

---

---

Closing Reflection:

To those who wonder if love still lives in the later chapters of life — it does. It may not look like youthful passion or fairytales we once imagined, but it can feel deeper, safer, and more meaningful than anything we knew when we were young.

Sometimes love doesn’t follow a traditional path. Sometimes it shows up in moments — in a hand held during chemo, in a shared silence on the couch, in the way someone sees you and still calls you sexy when the mirror tells a different story.

If you’ve ever had a Peace in your life — or still hope to find one — don’t lose heart. The most powerful connections often return when you need them most. They don’t always need to be explained, only honored.

Aging doesn’t make love fade. It refines it. Strips it down to its essence. What remains is real, resilient, and rooted in something far deeper than flesh.

I don’t know what the future holds for me and My Peace. But I do know this: I have loved him all my life, and I still do. That love has carried me through some of the hardest moments, and has gifted me with the kind of peace that doesn’t demand anything — only an unquestionable love that’s just ours.

And in this season of life, that’s more than enough.

LadyFlava of LadyFlavaNews

My Lifetime Love