I struggled with what to write about while reading The Baker’s Daughter, by Sarah McCoy.  It was my most recent free read provided through the From Left to Write online book club.  And this book, like so many of the past reads, spoke to me on so many levels that I wasn’t sure where to begin, what to share, how much to reveal.

That’s one of the many things I have in common with Reba, one of the main characters.  She is sent to interview a baker about Christmas in Germany and instead finds herself returning time and again as what she learns resonates with her life.  See, I, too, knew a little something about being in a relationship with someone who loved me, who I also loved, but who had me wanting to run.

Sam and I have struggled.  That was the story of our first few years together.  We had an undeniable chemistry.  We were drawn to one another on so many levels.  And still, we had a really difficult time making our relationship work…allowing our relationship to work.  It had Sam questioning how I could stay in my first marriage for so long, but be so quick to want to leave him.

The answer to that was simple.  For the first time ever, I was risking my heart.  That was scarier than anything previously experienced.  I felt more vulnerable.  Sam had the power to hurt me more than I had ever been hurt before.  And sometimes, I would just rather run than face what I viewed as the inevitable disappointment, the inevitable demise, the end.  I needed to call the shots.  I needed to feel some semblance of control when something about being with him had me filling utterly out of control.

After a time I realized that what I was doing was hanging on too tight to my past.  In doing so, I left my arms too full to embrace our future.  Ah, but recognizing the problem was not the same as solving it.  And the adage about old habits dying hard is so…true.

We did what we do.

We talked.  It was just the beginning.  We listened.  It was a good start.  We then had to act on those words.  We had to believe.  And we had to take the biggest risk of all and allow this love to grow, allow our relationship to flourish, even if it meant opening ourselves up to the biggest hurt ever.

The reward has been worth all that risk.  We’ve never been happier.  There are still moments Sam worries that the stress will be too great and my flight instincts will kick in.  Funny, but I don’t feel like running.  I feel like settling in.  I finally feel like I’m home, like we have a future, like I can relax and breathe.  It’s a good way to live.