Alison Larkin, at 54 years old, thought she had left love behind after her marriage and subsequent divorce. But the universe had other plans. While she admitted to initially being skeptical about the love she found with Bhima, their relationship was refreshingly devoid of the friction she had come to expect. "We can't be in love," she confessed to him shortly after they met. "Why not?" he replied, "There's no friction! We don't have to negotiate." Their connection felt like finally taking off shoes she'd worn for too long; it was liberatory and delightful.
Larkin's life story is one of constant self-discovery and overcoming deeply rooted fears. Growing up adopted and facing the cruel specter of abandonment haunted her dating life. She often found herself on high alert on those early dates and, sadly, imposed those fears onto her partners, leaving them before they had the chance to leave her. Early on, she embarked on the quest to find her birth mother, which led to disheartening realizations about her family history and shaped her views on love.
At age 25, Larkin dare to seek the truth. Her pursuit wasn't uncomplicated. Although she found her birth mother, learning about her twin's death left her grappling with the fact she was destined for heartbreak. The adoption psychologist who referred to her early abandonment and twin loss concluded she would likely never find true love, saying with finality, "You're doomed." Her dreams about finding love seemed dim, and for years, she checked out emotionally from relationships.
Larkin eventually settled with Brian, whom she thought could be her safe bet. They married, had two children, and the family life, complete with suburban bliss, looked picture-perfect from afar. Larkin dove deep, quitting comedy to spend meaningful moments with her children, hoping to present them what she had missed. Still, her marriage fell flat. "How can you be happy with a husband who's not interested, darling?" her mother pointedly asked. Shocked by the thought of abandoning her commitment to Brian, Larkin wrestled with the weak foundation of affection beneath their promises.
After mustering the courage to leave her marriage, Larkin entered voluntary exile to rural Massachusetts for self-healing. She learned to sandwich her children with love and create meaningful memories. Years later, when the kids headed to college, she finally embraced her loneliness and sought to open her heart to true love again. That is when she met Bhima, who, like her, had faced struggles of his own yet radiated warmth and kindness.
Their romance blossomed unexpectedly, illuminated by laughter and shared moments of joy. They hiked, swam together, and completed crossword puzzles, finding comfort and kinship they hadn't known before. Their relationship propelled Larkin forward, and she even told her doctor, "Yes, very," when asked if she was sexually active during her annual check-up, showcasing the positive shift Bhima brought to her life.
Tragedy struck when Bhima unexpectedly passed away just five days after their decision to marry. The shock left Larkin submerged within her grief. She recalls one monumental moment after the loss, seated on her sofa, entirely numb as she processed the reality of having found true love only to lose it again so swiftly. Her body turned to physical activity, running through trails they'd traversed together, and she found clarity through her grief. Rather than drowning beneath despair, she felt joy and resilience well within.
Larkin reflected on her conversation with the late Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who had poignantly advised her, "I can't control what happens to me, but I can control how I respond to it." She took his words to heart during the harrowing moments post-Bhima's death. Subsequently, she felt compelled to share her story, transforming her grief through creativity. Out of her experiences sprung her comedic theater show, which she believes has significantly shifted people’s perspectives on love and loss.
Is love gone forever with death? Larkin discovers her heart remains open to possibility and hope. "While the body dies, love never does," she writes. Reflecting on her life's many twists, she leaves readers with the reminder of the potential for love to endure, whispering, "Have I found love again? I'm not sure it ever went away." Through reflection and self-acceptance, Larkin teaches us all about resilience and the unbreakable essence of affection we share. The enduring message remains: true love is eternal if we allow it room to thrive within ourselves.