Chalcea,
I just left your house. It's 11 at night and I'm still in it.
I got to you at 11:25 today. Twenty-five minutes late, and I want you to know why, because it wasn't traffic. I drove around a little extra so I could stay on the phone with my brother and my mom about my aunt's funeral. I wasn't ready to walk in yet. You didn't ask me to explain and you didn't make me pay for it either.
Then we waited on the Holy's to be ready for us, and the move ended up not being nearly as bad as I'd built it up to be in my head. Period.
I got to meet a few more people you hang out with in the apartment complex and I am thankful you have a community there.
We got back to your place somewhere around two or three. We snuggled on the couch for a couple of hours, both of us dozing. I don't know which one of us went first.
Then we got up and played Nintendo. (OMG - Heart Eyes)
I have to say this part in writing so it's on the record.
The first Mario, I held my own.
Mario 3, you beat me badly.
I did really good on the castles and then fell apart on the regular levels, which I think says something about me that I'm not ready to examine. I'm getting my own Nintendo. I'm going to practice. This is a warning.
Here's what I actually noticed today.
At the Holy's, when we all sat down with the pizza,
(BTW it was the cutest little perfect pizza ever)
... you said something to the room about people getting their dogs. Then you caught yourself. You thought it landed too aggressive. And later you apologized to me for it, unprompted, without me ever bringing it up, when I hadn't even taken it that way.
I don't think you know what that did.
Being able to hold yourself accountable to something before anyone asks you to is not a small thing. Most people can't. Most people I've been with couldn't. You did it quietly, over pizza, on a moving day, and it made me feel safe. That's the word. Safe.
The last part of the night you turned off the Nintendo and we sat on the couch and kissed for a long time. Our makeouts are always intoxicating and addictive and electric, that's been true since the car after Kyle's birthday. But tonight felt different. Tonight felt emotional. Present. Slower.
It felt like home.
And I need to tell you what that word costs me.
We moved constantly my entire life. I have never had a place that felt like home. Not one. So I learned to find it in people instead. My mom feels like home. My kid feels like home. That's the whole list. I have never once had a partner who felt like home. Being with you does, and it shakes me to the core in a way that's hard to believe.
It also feels on time. Like we were supposed to be here, in this exact moment, in this lifetime.
I've never had a relationship outside of a chaotic custody battle. I wonder sometimes if that took something from me, whether it kept me from being able to give, or be present, or do the work on myself that would make me ready for something like this. But you can't control the timing of your own life. And when I look back at every relationship I've been in, I know each one shifted something in me that had to shift. Before you. Before us.
So I'm thankful. For the universe, and for the way the timing worked in our favor.
My brain keeps asking me why I'm not anxious. Shouldn't you be nervous? Shouldn't you put some walls up? This is too good to be true. And my heart just says: finally. This is the thing I've been waiting for.
The way you kissed me tonight made it really hard to leave. I didn't initiate anything, because you've had that sinus infection and you weren't feeling good, and I wanted you to rest more than I wanted anything else.
I want to be intentional. With my words, and with us.
I'm not saying we'll be perfect. We'll have hard conversations. We'll disagree. I don't think we'll fight, not in the way that the word "fight" usually means. But it feels like we can talk about anything without shame, and I've never had someone meet me here so easily.
So here it is.
I can tell I'm falling in love with you.
And I don't know if I've ever said that and meant it this way.
The first person I dated after Dustin, I had strong feelings for, but looking back, honestly, that was a trauma bond.
The first female I had a relationship with I also felt a deep connection with but I really think that was more of realizing how much I was queer... deeply queer. But that had real yo-yo energy and a lot of growth that needed to happen that didn't.
This isn't that. This is safe and comfortable and sexy and electric and raw and real and intentional and aware and romantic, all at once, and I didn't know you could have all of those in the same relationship.
We've been dating less than a month. It's been one month and a few days since we met.
Which makes all of it crazier.
You run across couples who've spent a lifetime together and are still in love. Still growing. Still changing. Still chasing each other and learning each other over and over inside that growth. I never thought I'd find that. And in my deepest core, this is what this feels like. It feels like when we're 80 and 90 we'll be that couple, and people will ask us what the secret is.
I think the secret is: heal, find the right partner (someone who has also healed), and stay open enough to let the universe do some magic.
Noel