And then I thought about how you held me on your couch, your gentle voice. I thought about how you reheated me dinner and served me on a plate. The countless times you put your arms around me. How you put on the AC and the blanket on me as I fell asleep. The first time you did that - the first time I slept over. How your head would lean into my hand when I stroked your hair or face. How you sat there looking over reports while I picked dandruff scales from your scalp. I lay there looking at you, snoring. I thought then that I loved you, no matter what. So this week you will figure out your stuff. And I will finish my thesis. And I shall see you on Sunday.
Monday, March 16, 2015
Love on a Sunday
We spoke for three hours yesterday. I hadn't realised it took us that long to muddle through. Well, there was that thirty minute pause to make love. It was the most adult thing I had ever done in a romantic relationship. To muddle through, together. We haven't reached a solution. And if I were to play cost-benefit analysis I am at the losing end of this, however one may look at it. I woke up at 3AM thinking exactly that. We are supposed to go on a break this week - where you figure out whether you could live your life without me. If you could, then you said you would appeal to my greater self for us to remain friends. If you could not, then we would maintain the status quo - a relationship for all intents and purposes, but without any guarantees. I rebelled at the thought, laying there on your couch - looking out at the orange-lit harbour. I felt a need to open the window, to look out, to feel the wind on my face. You woke up, sensing my absence. Asking me what I was doing. I wanted for you to come get me - and you did. You always do. And as we lay back on your bed, I look at you and your little-boy face, restful. I knew than that I loved you. And for the first time in my life, I was at peace with the thought of simply giving, without condition, wanting and expecting nothing in return. I thought then that I loved you and that I wanted you to live.