I could try to describe the way my wild emotions fly around inside my body when we’re together, even when I see something as simple as his perfect hand position on a menu… But I’m not that good of a writer. I can’t explain such significant things without sounding loony.
I thought it would be easier if I took a picture of his perfectly-settled fair fingers, so I told him, “Don’t you move!” and took this as he froze, holding his sneezes in until I was done.
I love this strong hand and the strong man attached to it, who loves me exactly the way I’ve been wishing for for years— since I became solidly me, and knew I wouldn’t be satisfied by half-way… which was all I could find until he walked up the aisle to meet me.
Those before him were the mostly-what-I-needed people who I didn’t miss or feel lonely without. Settling. I told men I loved them but the words always caught in my throat like they were lies. They were, I suppose, because this for sure is as LOVE as I will ever know.
I feel like I’m at the beginning of a long road that is paved with him, comforted by the air surrounding me that smells like him, smiling—thinking of him, going places with him and for him, looking ahead and seeing my future alongside him, concern disappearing from my face, and fear no longer holding my heart prisoner.
I am devoted.
