I Choose You.

It was a specific point in our early relationship where it stopped feeling like our bond was something that was happening and instead, it was something I was choosing. I was living at Ron’s and we we’re getting ready to go out on a date and you were sitting on my bed. As I walked past the foot of the bed, I pulled you up and started to walk out of the door, but you grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me back for our first “tall hug.” I can remember every sound, every smell, every thought, everything about that moment because that’s the moment I chose you and only you and it’s been that way every day ever since.

I choose you while leaving but you pulled me back. That feels like the gravity of love and the moment foreshadowed, as blundered as it was, the proposal story.

When you pull me in for that hug, I felt an overwhelming sense of safety and comfort. A feeling that I was needed as much as I was needing. I felt a warmth that told me inexplicably that you wanted what we were growing as much as I did and that it was safe to pour everything I had into it.

That’s it.

I didn’t just feel wanted.

I felt met.

Not rescue.

Not imbalance.

Mutual shelter of love.

Two people choosing to lean in at the same time and never stop.