So Good It's Scary
Recently my relationship has been so full of love and understanding that I've been a little afraid to blog about it. It's as if I'm afraid that if I write the words that it'll end. The reason that I'm writing about it now is because... well... read the title.
Today on our way home from dinner we got on the subject of marriage. The reason the subject came up is because my father has just decided to move in with his girlfriend of two years and informed me today that if everything goes well that he would like to go to Italy with her next summer and propose.
This doesn't come as a shock because my father, like me, is always planning the next step. Funny part is - that when I stopped planning the next step is when it got so damn good.
So as we were discussing my father's need to "jump the gun" Mr. M said, "you know if I were to ask you to marry me it wouldn't be some big production."
To which I responded, "I know"
I told him that all I would require is that he didn't say, "ahhh fuck it... wanna get married?"
The only reason I say that is because in the past while joking about marriage he has mentioned that that is probably the only way he'd ever get married.
He got serious then... which is a first in this conversation. He said, "If I was suggesting marriage you would have to know that I had thought about it and decided it's what I wanted."
To which I responded, "yes, baby.. I know"
I am so calm about this. More calm and serene than I have been in my entire life. I feel as if I don't want to move forward or plan my next step because this moment right now is so gloriously happy that I fear I would be tempting fate. I want to nestle into this love and sleep in it... I want to never move from this sunny patch in the grass. I want to breath in the smells of this and hold it in my lungs.
Is this the true love that I always thought I felt? When my skin would scream and I would pull my hair out in fits. When I would yearn for them with such intensity it would scare them away? Those things were never love. They were crazy fits of passion. They were being in love with the idea of someone rather than the true fiber of their being.
I love this man down to his soul. Not the idea of him, but the reality of him. I love his integrity, his honesty, his compassion. I want to breath in the musk of his skin and kiss the softness of his lips. I love this man for pushing me to be a better version of myself. I love him for becoming a better version of himself right before my eyes.
And yet... I do not think about "what if he asks me" "when will he ask me" "how will he ask me". I honestly don't. All I can think about is holding on to this feeling until the blood rushes from my knuckles leaving them white and pulled thin. I want to feel this forever.