It’s funny how, if last year today you’d asked me where we would be in one year, I’d have told you a story about two different people living two different lives that no longer intertwined with each other. But here we are…
You’re still with me.
One year is a long time, isn’t it? It’s supposed to be. We’re supposed to be fighting. We’re supposed to be bored. We’re supposed to be falling apart. That’s what I thought. Isn’t one year a lifetime of sorts? Turns out, not. Especially with you.
I’ve woken up at least 350 of these 365 days feeling like the centre of someone’s universe. Like I’m special. I’m important. I’m loved. Do you know what that’s like?
Secure is a feeling that doesn’t come easy to me. Didn’t answer by the fourth ring? He must hate me. I’ve spent years fighting with myself about how unworthy I am because someone I’ve dated for a week wouldn’t answer my texts. And then you happened. Hasn’t texted me all day? He must be busy. You know that’s a big deal? To know by reflex that it’s not about me?
You did that to me.
“You guys are so cute together! Can’t wait for you to get married.” Every time someone said that to me, I laughed nervous. Marriage is a big word for us. You’re not ready and I doubt I ever will be. So we spoke around it. Someday was a world where we’re together forever. But we’d never actually utter the word forever. We understood it. Never having to explain the fears – what if?
What if I get into the school of my choice? What if I move away? What if we fall out of love? What if you don’t want to stay? What if…
So I shut my mouth and told you off if you ever in a conversation brought it up.
You understood me.
Until, finally the day came to be. It wasn’t a choice, it was forced on me. And so we had the conversation I didn’t want. Staring at each other, I knew what it was.
This can’t be over. You can’t be gone. Let’s not end this. We can’t be done.
“So we’re not getting married?”
“I guess not.”
Then we got lunch. Like two adults who made a choice. Not one that stopped us from continuing to love.
Did you choose you and I choose me?
They don’t get it though. I’m constantly asked, “But if you really love..?” I smile and shrug.
“I can’t imagine you without him. He loves you. Why can’t you see it? Why don’t you see it? You think men like that come by everyday? Grab him now. You’ll regret it someday.”
It’s a chant I hear everyday. I try to explain to them. Even the little details. But how do you explain choosing the person you love over all else?
“But you’re breaking up someday!”
You want to do this or let me?
Have you ever been in love? The calm kind? Hearts don’t race. Minds don’t go numb. It feels sudden but you’ll know when it hits you. I knew when I first felt love for you. It was the first time you calmed an insecurity I’d carried along for a lifetime. Words I didn’t force out of you felt like a dream. And they continue to be.
Your kind heart makes me wish we saw the same future. That someday might someday happen. And I know you do too. But it won’t happen. Not because we don’t love.
But because we do.
Love does not necessarily mean being together forever. Love does not require proximity to live. Love does not mean selflessness.
I love you. I have loved you for a year.
We’ve dreamt of our future for a year.
But we’ve dreamt of our own futures for twenty.
Sitting in a room, staring at you, I can’t ask you to give that up for me.
Sitting in a room, staring at me, you’d never say, “Give it up for me.”
So here we are…
You’re still with me.
But it won’t be for long. All good things come to an end. So will we. Not because we chose what we want. We want each other.
But because we chose love.
Because the truth behind a life where we’re two different people living two different lives that no longer intertwines is..
You chose me and I chose you.