We can be quiet together, and pretend—since it is only the beginning—that we have all the time in the world. August 3, 2009Posted by Sparkel in I kinda love my life, M, realizations.
Realizing that the way you feel about a belief or a passion or a person is changing does not happen unless you have a full comprehension of where you’re coming from. Obvious right? And yesterday I realized that, while I have been in love with M for almost six years, I have never been what could be described as “comfortable” in that love.
I am comfortable with him. Neither of us walk on eggshells, we are honest, we argue, we’re mushy and affectionate. I’ve been aware of the good he brings to my life, of the respect and admiration he inspires in other people. I’ve gotten to know him very well, and he’s gotten to know me. I am still learning things about him all the time. He is still very capable of surprising me. And I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. I hope beyond anything I have ever hoped that we spend the rest of our lives together, but I haven’t allowed myself to believe we will.
I think I’ve been afraid of settling in to being comfortable and happy in my relationship with M because I’m afraid that the second I do, something horrible will happen. But I also think it’s in large part because it is only now that M and I are entering into a whole new part of our relationship, where we not only love and want each other, but we like each other and respect each other almost unequivocally. We rely on each other and trust that no harm will come purposely from the other. It’s something that can only come with time. Isn’t that the argument against ‘love at first sight’? That you can only really love someone with time and really getting to know them?
I think the best analogy for a relationship is the concept of learning a very complicated, intricate dance. You’re stumbling around each other for a while, then when you feel you have the hang of the steps, you still need to learn how to coordinate around and with your partner. And then one day, you’re dancing together as you always have, but something just clicks and settles, and suddenly you’re moving as a unit. It’s easy and fun and you have faith that, should you stumble, your partner will catch you.
I have faith that M and I would have gotten here whether we decided to marry five years ago, or if we wait until five years from now. But there is something about the thought of marrying M after this comfort level has been reached that, cheesily, makes my heart sing. I feel as though I can relax now, and the future will take care of itself without forceful interventions from my insecurities.
We went curtain shopping yesterday and walked around the appliance section at Sears, discussing our wants and likes for the house in our future. We laughed and made fun of each others tastes and agreed and disagreed on things.
As we walked through the parking lot to the car, he asked what I think we should get his sister as a gift for her baby. I shrugged and said I don’t really care, it’s his nephew, he can pick. He took my hand and said “its your nephew too, my Tina, like it or not. What’s mine is yours, and that includes family.”
Someone chose me to be his family. This knowledge has finally sunk in, and I could not be happier.