Mary Vine

Love Changes

When I was fourteen years old, I was in love with a rock star. His boyish good looks and toothy grin, as seen on my television screen, won me over. I continued to be smitten with him until his songs moved down the hit chart, and I moved on to other rock musicians. Even though I couldn’t settle on one star, I knew I would never lose my love for the music.

I graduated from high school and moved on with my life, this time taking notice of the men around me. After trial and error, I found a man with a sexy smile and dimple in his cheek. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, and with our two minds together we could solve most problems, or at least work through them.

Five months ago, I had the opportunity to attend a concert on the Oregon Coast starring the rock singer with the toothy grin. Somehow, he still had the boyish looks, but he didn’t lure me in as before. What I did like was the awesomeness of being in the same room with him, while thinking about what my teen self would have thought about being close enough at one point to reach out and touch. Basically, in present time, it was surreal to see the man in person.

There was something else I noticed at the concert. With my teen years long gone, my hormones are quieter and my love is no longer shallow. I’ve fixed my love on my husband, and it is a deeper love than I’d ever thought possible, even without the passion of the early years. Then, I believed I’d find true love, but could not fathom the deepness of the love that I’ve come to know. Remarkably love changes.

I loved the concert, to go back in time is a wonderful experience, but I also liked sitting on the beach peacefully soaking up the sun with my husband and talking about nothing in particular. I no longer sit and stare at him; however, with maturing I’ve found other things in life that define me as a person apart from him, even though he’s the one I run to with my dreams, my hopes, plans and concerns.

Undoubtedly my younger self would have gotten a kick out of knowing I’d be able to see this heart throb one day, but pretty disgusted that I no longer favor rock music. Again, love changes.