We said “I love you.”
The words bloomed ripe on the vine, becoming a luscious wine I want to press to my lips again and again.
I can’t get enough. You are rare and exquisite; I am so happy to be yours.
Then…my eyes widen, and there it is…fear.
F*ck.
But it makes sense. It follows the way I track growth — big expansions are often followed by equally big contractions.
We expand, then pull in. Growth pulses. Fear shows up; change pulls us by the hand and demands us to dive deeper.
Here we are, tender and curious together, with smiles on our faces even if we’re scared sh*tless.
Because we are wise enough to know how precious this is. We want to do things differently with each other. We want to break the old wounded patterns and braid the future into something breathtakingly beautiful.
We know just how nourishing love can be. We are learning that together.
In moments like these, questions open up the space that fear suffocates. Questions become our best friends.
What if we strip away all the things we’re supposed to want? What would it be like then?
What if we stop looking to the templates of other people’s relationships and look to the cosmos instead?
To the ripped open sky. To our own hearts. To our eyes drenched in tears and desires raw like dew on our skin.
What would love mean if we define it ourselves?
What would it be like to custom-make a relationship?
If we could get back to the core of what we actually want and need. If we could savor the depths of our independence and not fear our separateness—while also cherishing the gem-like sweetness of our togetherness.
What would it mean to sometimes whisper in your ear —I don’t want to talk about this heavy sh*t today? I just want to play with you and walk under trees with branches draped like garlands and laugh too loudly and make love four times and just be in the moment for once in my goddamn life.
What would it be like tell you that you are exactly what I want?
What would it be like to not leave you guessing?
Love shakes loose the dust and grit, the pain, grief, and jealousy in our hearts.
And it helps us face these things. It brings possibilities scented with cherry blossoms. Will we dare step into them? Will we try on something brand-new?
Will we sort through the wreckage of the past and come forward with a new sort of confidence that is paradoxical — caring more in some ways, but also less in other ways?
Will we learn how to let go of something—and when to speak up when it matters most?
I love these questions. To me, they are everything.
They aren’t always answerable. They are mysterious in their very nature—best explored through play and practice and error and repair and just having the balls to be vulnerable in the first place.
So I sit here, thinking of you, thinking of me—with the breath of these words, quiet and steady on my lips —and what I want for us both.
Return to yourself. Do it a thousand times until those grooves are well worn pathways of water and self. Sparkling from every angle.
That’s the love I yearn to create. Expansive, far-reaching, tender, and joyous.
A love forever strengthened by the blossoming of our deepest, truest selves.
A togetherness unafraid to change us—to soften us in the ways we so badly need to be softened.
I am fascinated by the glow of what we could create together.
I am so excited for everything that comes after we say I love you.
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