Valentine, may I help you with your baggage?

Today has my mind traveling to love, of course.

I remember falling in love with and being in love with my ex. Now, I just love him. That seems like a contradiction, since we are divorced, but it's true. I love him in the sense that I wish good things for him; physical and mental health, to be happy, to have companionship, to be needed, wanted and loved and to be without need and want of basic things. For him to recognize and take pride in the good things he's accomplished and to forgive himself for the mistakes he's made. I hope our children don't drive him crazy with worry or pique his anger to the point of no return. I hope that he is proud of them and sees the good parts of himself in them. Does he sometimes make me angry and hurt me? Yes. Do I sometimes turn into a person I don't like in times of conflict with him? Yes. Am I a saint and all forgiving? No. But, I care for him in the way I care for myself, and that is what we should do.

I have spent a great deal of time trying to decipher love in the ten years since our separation and divorce - specifically love for an intimate partner. Especially since my ex told me that what I was looking for didn't exist, and I'm beginning to believe him. I think it's something I will never feel again. That statement isn't meant to elicit pity, I don't know if I'm capable of dealing with the good, the bad and the ugly emotions 'being in love' calls forth. I don't think I have the energy to be less self-centered and more couple-focused. In ten years I've become very accustomed to being alone and selfishly independent. I find I don't mind clothes on the floor if they are mine or eating out of can because I don't want to cook. I also have the 20+ years of loving my ex coloring all other relationships. I believe there are many things you can only do once and whether you get them right or wrong, you can't experience them ever again. Oh, you may love another, and love them just as much, but's it's not the same.

And too, I think you have to be young to bear the feelings without seeking medical attention - I remember the emotions as piercing. I was 18, but I knew I was falling in love because it hurt. My head ached just wondering what he was doing, who he was with, hoping he was thinking about me. All that thinking made me distracted. I was all jangly inside and couldn't sleep. There was physical pain too, something I imagine to be like withdrawal from a drug, craving to hear his voice and be in his presence. My chest felt full, I had heart palpitations. I've recognized these feelings in later relationships and hesitated, because although they are normal, the symptoms are remarkably like a psychological disorder I'd rather not endure.

Then there are the years I was 'in love.' I wanted to make things easier for him, I wanted to provide an oasis, a place where he could be himself and be proud of me, our home, the life we made together. I hoped I challenged him to be a better person. I believe I encouraged him to do and see things differently than either of us had experienced in the past. I placed an inordinate amount of importance on his reactions to everything I said or did. I made it all about him, and how I felt depended on how he felt, because I thought that is what you did when you were in love with someone. He didn't ask me to do any of these things, but later I resented him for accepting them anyway. I believed he had taken me (and all I'd given) for granted; that he didn't love me as much as I loved him because he didn't or couldn't express it in the same way I did. At the end of our relationship when I said "I'm not 'in love' with you anymore" what I really meant was "I am not getting what I never asked for." I haven't become any better at asking for what I need or want and I haven't met a man who could read my mind, so subsequent relationships have also failed.

I am a child of the sixties and seventies - love was the opium of the masses then. Public displays of affection were encouraged, men were supposed to get in touch with and express their feelings and women were emerging as people with their own rights. "Make Love, not War" wasn't referring to sex; love was a feeling you had for all of personkind and the world was going to be a better place for it. We are the generation that was going to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony. The movies portrayed love as either all innocence or all angst. Love meant never having to say you're sorry. My parent's relationship, although enduring, wasn't very helpful to me in my own marriage. Once I called my mom to talk about a horrible fight my then husband and I had and she asked me "What did you do to cause it?" I never talked about marital conflicts again. As far as my family knew, we were perfectly happy, living the dream life, until we divorced.

I have tried to keep the lines of communication open with my children as it relates to love. We've had some frank conversations about how the divorce of their parents probably affects the way they think about relationships and love. I've tried to claim my share of blame and point out my mistakes in the marriage. My daughter, who is older, remembers the fights and the hurtful words flung about, and both my son and daughter remember the pervasive atmosphere of anger and uncertainty. I try not to be cynical and I tell them that this was their father's and my experience with love and marriage and it doesn't have to be theirs. We discuss how love is not sex and it's not just for the rich and beautiful, and it's not fleeting or disposable, and everything can't be solved in 30 minutes, as it's so often portrayed on tv and in music today.

I hope they understand that you can have conflict and still love someone, and that fighting couples don't always divorce. I hope they know that although it's cliche', they are the best part of our marriage. I wish for them to find true partners in love - people they can trust with the most vulnerable parts of themselves. I hope they can ask for what they need. I hope they know what they need. I want them to find loving partners who will build them up, encourage them to be better people and who will pick them up when they fall and never stop loving them even when they fail.

I hope they get it right the first time.