It was about a year ago that the S-word was first used. Back then, it was under influence of a glass of red wine, or two glasses. I knew what was going on and let it unfold. Give it space. Let it breathe. If you are lucky, it will blossom. He needed time to feel that this amazing thing between us is real, that he didn’t just dream up the woman who loves him, and that he and I will be together in years to come, and more years, and more.

It’s hard to remember exactly how it felt a year ago, light-years now, because now is now. Today we sat with laptops, an entire room stretching between us. I wanted to touch him, feel his breath on my neck, taste his mouth. Instead, I looked at him. I looked love into him, as much as I could. He lets me love him this way, lets me love him with as much of me as I can.

This is what love is supposed to be.

I look at him and everything swells up inside, wanting to burst forth. I am overcome. Overjoyed. Abundantly blessed. No one has ever let me love them this much, has ever loved me this much. And every day there is more.

Yesterday in the car I looked over at him. We were leaving Trader Joe’s and headed for Lowe’s. Mundane shopping in mundane suburbia, a bridge and a lake away from our house on a tall city hill. I looked over at him driving and saw our future, all the way to the end. The future where I love him the rest of my life.  I saw it and felt it and knew it, as real as the day a few weeks after we met when I knew we’d be one day living together in Seattle.

And every day there is more.


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