Difficult Questions

“How did you and Daddy meet?”

My daughter is full of questions this late Sunday evening.  She holds my hand as I tell her about her Dad – the man that I met and came to love very quickly and completely. 

“You sound like you are about to cry,”  she says as she hugs me tightly. 

I am not close to tears, more considering the man with the amazing voice with whom I share compatibility and chemistry.  The man that charmed me with his dreams and desires and delighted me with his laughter and individuality.  The man that came to be her father, who came to be my best friend, that man enriched my life while allowing me the opportunity to explore love.  Love of the unconditional variety.  Love that gives and gives without expectation of anything returned and without conditions to be met. 

I held her as I told her of this man that I love and that she loves. 

“You sound like you are going to cry, “ she said again.  I suppose my voice was filled with emotion.  Her questions ask me to travel back into the past while also considering the present.  Her questions ask me to reconcile the man that I love and am detached from today and the man that I have enjoyed an intimate friendship with for years. 

“You are a nice person Mamma.  You love Daddy like you love me.  You love him and he loves you no matter what.  You gave him so much.”

I hold this child close and want to cry, but I don’t.  This child believes in love more than I do at this moment.  She believes; she trusts; and she wants so much for her Dad and I to be friends again.  I hold her and know that the rules  are in place; a friendship is most likely not possible; and that love is far more complex in the hearts of man than it is in the hearts of children.