simple belief

In almost 7 months, we’ve still never spoken an angry word to each other. We haven’t raised our voices in anger, ever – in intensity yes. In emotional outbursts and exclamations, possible. But never a heated moment. Never a disrespectful tone. We handle things in calm discussions, curled up on the couch. A moment in a dark movie theater, taking your hand from mine briefly in incredulity. But we handled it. We have the uncomfortable conversations that most people don’t have – most people hold onto them in silence, stewing, marinating over the negative and building a bridgework of resentments spanning the chasm they dig out of the pit of their relationship. We talk about things – sometimes that results in hurt feelings, sometimes it’s inevitable. But we talk it out, and in the end, curled up in bed together tighter than if we were glued, we’re closer than ever – physically and otherwise. I’m proud of us for that. I’m proud of you for being so open minded and conversational – making it easier for me (although it’s never easy, is it) to tell you things that bother me, things that sting. But the stings are like minuscule bee stings that prick one at a time on days I am feeling more sensitive. Not like a swarm of hornets or yellowjackets that attack en masse and leave me gasping for breath. I’m okay with this.

I have moments of my own, insecurity over uncertain and unpredictable outcomes. But as you said last night, you told me there is nothing between us that is holding us apart. No hidden resentments or secrets. No wondering. No misplacement of trust. You clung to that last night with my late night confessions of what it was that hurt…asking repeatedly if I didn’t trust you, but it’s not about that at all. It’s about finding the balance and the tendency of overlooking little things that pile up and go unmentioned. Until now. Now we’re aware of expectations, of our own flaws that need to be repaired. Not us. Never us. You reiterated in the darkness that there is nothing we can’t do…nothing we can’t overcome or talk out. Its still amazing, given my history at least, that we haven’t fought. We’ve had misunderstandings and miscommunications. Everybody does. It’s part of being human – you add in the additional stress of the last few weeks, compounded by lots of other jogging pants issues, and it’s no wonder. It’s unavoidable. But in the grand scheme of things, the important things that matter, that make or break a relationship – we’ve got it. We’re good. And these little things are going to sew the stitching between us tighter than ever – not cut the thread and keep us apart. I’m clinging to that in the knowledge of the upcoming days of separation. In the times when you are keeping other plans, enjoying the company of those you don’t often get to see. You reminded me, quietly, that you carry me with you everywhere – that you hold me in your heart, and that wherever you go…I go too. The same is true of me. Even now on your early day, as you sit at the beach laughing, and communing with those you are closest to, I can feel the warmth of your smile. A shared memory of last night that is playing over both of our minds when we least expect it – I know you’re thinking of it. And I am too. The pitch dark and sudden silence. A reversal of fortune in unexpected places. An unexpected request for a joint onslaught of cleansing rain. You surprised me last night…and you took my breath away.

And when you held me this morning, I knew – that although we would be apart, nothing could be further from the truth of the reality of the matter. We’re closer than ever. You’re here because you want to be. And that’s not, ever, going to change.

I’ve always made it a point to make the distinction – I want to believe. I don’t have to anymore.

I do. I do believe. It’s never been so easy, or so meaningful. I’m holding on to the knowledge of your permanent residence, where you belong – when your proximity might be farther than we both would choose, given the option. And I can’t wait for you to be home.