Seasons of Us: A Story of Real Love

Some love stories don’t follow a straight line.

Ours is one that has traveled across decades, through changes and chances, heartache and healing… yet always found its way back to center. To us.

We met as teenagers, with stars in our eyes and the whole world ahead of us. Life, in its unpredictable way, took us on different journeys—relationships, children, years apart—but somehow, we always returned to each other’s orbit.

They say when something is real, time can’t tarnish it. And now, in this season of life, what we share feels deeper, quieter, and more beautiful than ever. There’s no need for performance, just presence. No chasing, just choosing. And we choose each other—over and over again.

He is my protector, my comfort, my joy. He opens my door, holds my hand, walks me to my car, and reminds me that I’m still beautiful. Even with time’s imprint on our bodies, we hold each other with the same reverence as we did at 15. Maybe more.

I call him My Peace—because that’s exactly what he is.

There’s no script to follow here, no need to define what already feels so grounded and sacred. We laugh. We check in. We love each other through text, through touch, through presence. And we always say “I love you.”

Our love may not look like the ones in fairy tales—but to me, it’s better. It’s earned. It’s resilient. And it’s real.

So here we are, in another season together—wiser, softer, more grateful than ever.

This time, we’re staying. ❣️