This is a post that I’ve been meaning to write for a while now. It wasn’t a planned post by any means, but each time one of these moments would happen, when I’d think back on them, I’d just sit and think, Yeah, I really want to write about this; both here on the blog and in the writing sense. I’d love to write about characters who get to experience and emulate and feel such a wonderful and lovely experience that I’ve been so lucky to have.
It’s about to get sappy and cheesy, friends, so grab your tissues, if you got them. Or if you’re like me or Gus, when it comes to anything even remotely close to sentimental…
You see, I was single for a really long time. Most of my life, actually. I met my man when I was 24 and we didn’t start dating until I was 25 (I turn 26 this year). Before then, I had crushes, but not much more than that, in the romance realm.
I had a ton of dreams, though.
I used to dream what it would be like, to find love. To experience what it was like, to have that other person who was always there for you, who was your rock, your support system. That person who you came home to, every night, and no matter what the day threw at you, you knew you could count on them, to curl up with you and make everything feel okay–even when it was them you were mad at. The person who became your best friend, who doesn’t put up with your antics and your quirks, because they don’t feel like they are putting up with anything. It gets difficult sometimes, sure, but they love you, quirks, edges, hiccups and all. The person who you go on adventures with, who challenges you, who believes in you no matter what, who reaffirms truths about yourself you’ve never been able to believe in, yet somehow, seeing yourself through your eyes makes you believe that, one day, maybe you can.
I have always, always wanted that.
Now, I have it.
And it is…just as great as I imagined it would be.
But when I’m reminded the most–that my dream of finding love has finally come true–it isn’t with the grand adventures, the roadtrips, the spontaneous dates or the big decisions we make together; though all of those things definitely cement this reality I’ve been living for the past year and a half now, a reality I never thought would be mine.
No, I’m reminded the most with the little things, those every day moments I never realized I would cherish as much as I do.
My boyfriend and I, we work opposite schedules. I work 3pm-12am Sunday through Thursday. He works 8am-5pm Monday through Friday. During the year, we usually see each other Friday evenings and Saturdays, if we don’t have any other plans or other commitments (and we usually do), before missing one another throughout the week. Over the summer, we get six weeks where I work days and our schedules blissfully match. We get spoiled, seeing each other so much when it’s normally so little. And it’s during this time that I see those every day moments that I’ve learned to cherish so much.
The other night, I was so overwhelmed with feeling loved, with that feeling of, Yes, this is what I waited a quarter of my life for, that it reminded me that I wanted to write this post, if only so I could experience that warm feeling all over again in remembering it. He got home from work (I had arrived a little earlier) and then we went to the store. We bought groceries. All the while, we’re trading stories about our days: rants, laments, advice, laughs (though I’m talking a little more, because, writer). We get home and continue as we put groceries up, talking as we leave out what we’re going to cook for dinner. We cook, we eat while watching some YouTube videos, playing with the two felines that are now our cats instead of his, inside our apartment that we now share, we clean dishes. We settle in for the evening, playing video games and slipping into other worlds together, all the while discussing weekend plans, upcoming vacation plans and dreaming about the future.
I know it’s so simple. All we did that night was come home, go grocery shopping, cook, eat and relax before bed. It was nothing “special”, nothing planned. Yet it is moments like this–moments that are so routine for couples in long-term relationships or something I used to only associate with my parents, growing up–that remind me that, all that dreaming I did, wanting to fall in love? All those tears I cried, over boys who didn’t know how to treat me or didn’t like me? All those fears I felt, that I’d never experience what it felt like to love and be loved in return, in a way that no one else can?
They are a thing of the past, because right now, in this present moment? I’ve found exactly who I was looking for and everything I wanted.
I couldn’t ask for more, for I’ve already got it all.
And that’s…the most surreal thing ever, I think.
PS: I warned you it was going to be cheesy and gushy. I’m a hopeless romantic, after all. And to every single person who reads this, to everyone who is still dreaming: you won’t believe me when I say it (because Lord knows I never did), but your person is out there and you will find them. And every moment of waiting, of doubt, of wanting, will be totally and utterly worth it. ❤