Let’s take a moment to talk about us. I know, it’s a little awkward, but once in a while, I think we should remember why we are together.
We can get so wrapped up in our problems, our issues, and our work that sometimes, we unintentionally start taking each other for granted.
But I know you love me, even though you’ve stopped saying it every morning before you go to work. I know you appreciate me, even though, Sunday breakfast in bed is a thing of the past. And I know you would never cheat on me, even though it’s been a while since we’ve gone out, just us, dressed up, and giddy on wine. Over the years, so many things have changed, and I truly don’t mind.
The hot ember that fueled our relationship at the very beginning, as we rebelled and dared the world to deny us of each other, or as we kissed fearing the consequences, has ebbed away. We chose each other in the end, and with that choice came the calm waters of companionship and trust. And I wouldn’t trade that for the world.
Over the years, I’ve realized that love isn’t just about the first bouquet of roses you sent me, or the way your breath caught when we first made love, or how long I chased you, fighting the thoughts and opinions that kept trying to keep us apart.
These days, love is also turning over in the morning, and seeing your face. Love is the relief I feel when my hand casually brushes your arm as I stretch trying to chase away the early morning grogginess.
Love is seeing something and no matter how insignificant, want to tell you. Love is forgetting how ingrained into my life you have become, until you go on a long trip, and nothing feels quite the same.
And love is being mad at you, so mad at you that I think I could never get over it, and then you come over, press your cheek against mine, and whisper, “sorry babe.”
And most importantly love is the courage you give me when people stare and hate what we represent. It’s the calm way you reach for my hand in public, the gentle way you lean into me, placing soft kisses on my cheek, on my mouth, on my nose, marking me with affection. Love is how much you never stop fighting for us, and those like us, even when it feels hopeless.
Even if, for many, our love is a blemish, and so, undeserving of respect, we are still the lucky ones, because we found each other.
That’s it. That’s us.
Just you and me, two women, in love in our own way.
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