Mr., Mr., Mrs.
I wear a ring on my hand every day. It shows that I’m attached to you. It shows that I am a part of you. It shows that I am in love with you. It shows that I give myself gladly to you. It shows that I am important to you. It shows that I am beyond happy with you.
But it doesn’t show that there are two of you.
The three of us are connected, an endless swirling spiral that merges and melds like the sands of the ocean. We are not made of the same rock. We are fragments of other things, of other people, of other experiences. But we are together, as family, and we make up the shore.
Most others are pairs. They circle each other like a proton to an electron, pushing and pulling as exact opposites. But as three, we are more intimately together. I am the piece that pulls us all together, fitting in a slot between you and you. I am a linchpin, connecting the pieces that already fit together, but now are as one. I am the glue, the thread, the wiring.
I am what I am, your wife, your partner, your second lover, though law says I can not - and can never be.
Yet I am. And will always be.
