He watched over me, made sure I was eating and sleeping and smiling enough. He coaxed me out of the house from time to time and even introduced me to people who mattered. I don’t know what I could have done to deserve his affection or even what it was about me that ever captured his attention. But here he is, and he seems to be staying.
And you know what? I’m glad he is.
For every gentle kiss he’s planted on my forehead, I’ve breathed a little easier. And for every fervent kiss he’s planted elsewhere, he takes another breath away. This man is bringing balance into a life that’s never known it before. He’s the push and pull, the give and take, the want and need. I may not be gifted in the language of romance, but I’ve got a strong intuition, and I can tell you that this is important. Either it’s forever or it’s the worst-ever ending waiting to happen – no one is escaping unscathed.
Hours into days and nights and weeks into months. The beginning feels so far away now. I’m not so nervous anymore – I almost enjoy feeling his eyes on me. I sleep curled into his chest, and I slide my icy feet between his knees. We share plates of mac n cheese in the middle of the night while he talks over a movie that he picked out. I fight back when he tickles me in bed, and he teases me for my comic book underwear.
If he turns out to be the greatest thing to ever happen to me, I won’t even be surprised. Fingers crossed that he stays.