What My Relationship Feels Like

I wake up every day next to warm skin, even when it’s cold; soothing eyes, even when it’s dark; and a gentle smile that begins to ask me how my sleep was, even before it opens.

A body I know. A soul I trust.

A face that I’ve looked at many times over but puts me at ease or fills me with joy or helps me take a deeper breath or a longer pause or let my guard down – almost every time.

Perhaps because of all the memories I’ve made with this face – from Banff to Bombay to Bali to Barcelona to Buenos Aires and beyond.

Perhaps because of how this face has calmed me in my biggest storms – at Duke, in DC, and throughout the decade.

How this face is the representation of the values I admire – sincerity, honesty, courage, confidence, exploration, inquisitiveness, kindness, care.

How this face has challenged me to be more daring, more measured, more adventurous, more loving, more selfish, more generous, more relaxed and routined and spontaneous. More whole.

I smile back at this face, this entity, and know what that does within him. I understand the power I have and that he has and that we have on each other.

I understand the great amount of risk involved in allowing someone to have that much power over you.

The vulnerability it requires to not only accept it, but to cherish it, to fall in love with the risk of it all.

The humbling knowledge that the potential for pain and loss only increases the better it gets, the longer it gets, the more we create together. The more our lives and dreams are intertwined. But somehow, I don’t mind.

So I move to kiss his cheek, but he knows where I’m going and swivels gently so our lips meet.

It doesn’t feel the same as the first kiss – almost 11 years ago. It doesn’t feel riveting, nerve-wracking, thrilling. It feels grounded, rooted, and stable, yet still more exceptional than all the other kisses before, if only because it’s in this moment. And we, as individuals and as a unit, encompass everything we have experienced up until this moment, which is more than what we were yesterday, and the day before, and the year before, and the years before that.

_ _ _

Perhaps also because this kiss is a moment of bliss and not a moment of hurt or of confusion or of disappointment.

It is not lost on me that these challenging moments have played their important roles throughout the continuous creation of this partnership. It also isn’t lost on me that as we take on more feats, more collaborations, more adventures, more lives, we will continue to experience these challenging moments.

In some of these moments, I could easily blame prior circumstances, traumas, or some other outside force, but I had to learn to take responsibility for changing the situation anyway.

In some of these moments, I could easily point the finger at him, but I had to take responsibility for communicating with kindness and without judgment (at least, eventually…) and remind myself that we were on the same team.

In some of these moments, I had to swallow my pride and accept not only responsibility for moving forward, but full-on accountability for poor decision-making and offer heartfelt apologies.

And in some of these moments, I had absolutely no idea what went wrong and had to work with him to break our way out of a hazy maze of frustration – untie the knots, solve the riddles, see the light.

But in all of these moments, the outcomes look shockingly similar:

Grace. Understanding. Resolution. Forgiveness. Acceptance. Typically, in that order.

_ _ _

And then: Continuation. Where I am in this moment. Where we are in this moment. Where everything makes sense, and there’s little worry about the future because of all the grace, understanding, resolution, forgiveness, and acceptance that we have practiced in the past.

We are now experts in the field of each other.

But, like any expert, there’s always room for more learning. There’s always room to grow, for continued education, for expanding one’s knowledge. I can write the book of him, but I’ll be open to critical reviews. I can publish a study in the Journal of him, but I’ll conclude with “Opportunities for Further Research.” This deep understanding, combined with bright curiosity, kills any opportunity for complacency to thrive.

He now asks me, “What have you learned about me this week in the Amazon Rainforest?” and I smile at the way it makes me ponder, then smile more when I retrieve an answer.

I smile cause I remember that novelty doesn’t require someone new.

I smile cause I remember that we are now, in this moment, more than what we were yesterday, and the day before, and the year before, and the years before that.

And – as expected from the body I know and the soul I trust – he gently smiles back.