Today marks 7 years of my man and I being a couple, and it is truly bliss.
Looking back on our relationship I see just how far we've come and how much we've grown. And what hits me the most is how much we've grown together.
As adults it becomes increasingly harder to find people we're compatible with. The consequence of being more sure of yourself and your identity is realizing that you just won't jive well with many people. Growing into yourself means growing out of the ease of connection.
This is not to say that connections in youth are easy for everyone because I know many young people struggle with relationships (friendships, romance, family, etc). But when we're no longer trying on different groups to find ourselves, our pool of people to connect with shrinks.
And so I speculate that finding honest to god true love and commitment after full maturation is an incredible challenge. And even when you do find that person or people, they will never know you as you were, only as you are. They will know what you tell them of your past, but they won't have witnessed your growth themselves.
And that unique opportunity to grow with your lover is both rare and precious. Many will find that they outgrow each other, but when you grow together it is bliss.
I tell my husband that the beauty of our story is how we have been made for each other. We weren't necessarily right for each other at the beginning, but our chaotic energy was electric and addicting. Our passion was unwavering and exhilarating. But then we struggled. We watched each other fall. We helped each other back up. We were unmade of the things we were taught to be and remade into the things we believe in, together. And we were remade together in a congruous and synchronized way that is almost like magic. Our love is almost like magic.
I feel beyond lucky to be in love with my best friend and in commitment with the person who knows me inside and out, from my immature past to my ever growing present self. And I know him this way as well. I feel sometimes as if we are not two people, but one existing in separate bodies to maximize our time on earth. I feel so interconnected with him beyond finishing each other's sentences and vocalizing one another's thoughts. Pablo Neruda's sonnet 17 describes it best:
No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio
o flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego:
te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras,
secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma.
Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva
dentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores,
y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpo
el apretado aroma que ascendió de la tierra.
Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni de dónde,
te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo:
así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera,
sino así de este modo en que no soy ni eres,
tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mía,
tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño.
I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
from the earth lives dimly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
To my darling Blackbird, thank you for being my lover, my person, my very best friend. Thank you for choosing me and giving me the honor of choosing you. I love you and will love you always.