When I am in my dark place I wonder how Grant and I got to be the armchair lovers that I remember singing about while listening to this one album I discovered in college. I don't remember the band or the song title or any other lyrics other then one about being a "comfortable armchair lover". The idea obviously being that love that endures will evolve into something that brings more then just lightning down your spine, it will be a safe place to fall apart, sink in to, and will be so familiar that you long for it when you aren't there. I remember loving that idea for other people, other lovers, other love stories.
But certainly not for me.
I wanted the moment before our hands touched to be for always. The thrilling uncertainty and the confident assurance that we were waiting on each other for a move that was sure to come. Of course you want to kiss me. You could hope to be so lucky that I would kiss you back. And you won't back away because you want me. You have been watching me from across the room for hours. You already thought about how to talk to me, how to get my attention, how to try and make me forget anyone else was around.
Then the hand on the small of my back. Comfortably guiding me through a crowd of people as if we were already together. Listening to me ordering a drink so you can figure out what I like. What it says about me that I like my whiskey straight up. That I like my steak medium well and my coffee dark with sugar. When we go to a show I don't like to sit down. I don't like to stand in the front either, just somewhere in the middle where I can move without being the center of attention. I like that you open my car door for me but let me pay if I pull out my wallet first. I probably won't tell you when I decide to leave the room. I like what I like and will answer your questions about my personal tastes but don't take offence if we don't agree. This is the beautiful mystery of getting to know another human.
I don't expect many things in life to last forever and there are so many people in the world that nothing surprised me more then meeting you and falling down the rabbit hole of our love story. I wasn't ready for you to get to know me. To get familiar with how you kiss or the sound of your feet coming down the hall. I wanted more time to be free and responsible for no one, not even myself. I wanted more eyes on me across a room and more hands on my back and more questions about how I take my bourbon.
I wasn't ready to fall in love with you. But like it does in the movies, I couldn't deny it was happening. Our love story. And it was the best one. We had our electricity and our hikes in Moab and our candlelight baths and our epic fights and our mind numbing sadness and our Mardi Gras parades and our bathroom floor mushrooms and gay German landlords and lonely barstool beers. We had it all. The passion and the fury.
No one has had a better love story then us. I would live it a thousand more times. The comfortable armchair that is now our Tuesday evenings doesn't come from apathy or disinterest. It comes from years of kisses that left me weak in the knees and hours of fights that ripped out my heart. I earned the right to relax in to you. Because I love you with everything I have. And we will tell Knox and Pursy about the love that made them and why we believe they shouldn't settle for anything other then the most epic love story they could ever dream of writing. Because the best one gets told over and over again. And every time we tell the story of how we met and fell in love, I remember that we had it all. We have the best one.
|Photo credit: Caryn Azure Carson|