"Truly breathtaking."

Got an unintentional reminder today from a friend. She quoted me when I told her sometime in the spring "don't think, just love". Simple words that I've learned to accept the hard way over the years because my brain is often my most exciteable organ (take that how you will). Hearing it again after so many months and after so much has changed made me realize, again, how lucky I am to have Meg in my life.

It's been nearly seven months since my world collapsed in on itself and I sit now counting the blessings of my last couple months knowing well that I didn't think this was possible. I thought there was no recourse for the way my life had gone; I felt wholly alien to myself and one of the deepest senses of shame I have ever experienced. And now, today, I am at work so full and content knowing I am going home to Meg and she will greet me warmly, without pretense and with the most genuine affection you could ever see.

And I know what tomorrow will bring, and this weekend, and in the plans we're making weeks and weeks from now. And I trust that those plans will happen...I trust that nothing will upset this balance and stability that we're enjoying. I know that I will still be in love with her and she will still be in love with me. That's a trust and a truth that I've lacked in a life where I wasn't sure what would greet me on the other side of the door sometimes...and I found myself living that all over again as an adult and feeling the familiarity of chaos and being drawn to the ups and downs as a way to prove myself to someone. But I don't have to prove myself to Meg. She loves me steadily and with no expectation but to return that fidelity, affection and love to her. That's it. Come home, love the way she looks and laughs, dive in to her day and her life with her, and know that I get a chance to do that all over again the next day.

There is a lump in my throat as I type this knowing the beauty of that and, at the same time, questioning how worthy I am of it. I think that's an insecurity we all have when we find something so perfect; sometimes that insecurity leads people to upset that balance purposely so as to avoid the shock of it happening to them. I've done that. I've looked straight into calm eyes and imagined a storm. But I am her raincoat and she is mine. And I know that tomorrow I get to say that again, commit myself again under a new sun, and feel the same from her in a morning's embrace and the first sleepy hello of the day.