I have written a certain amount of things throughout the years. Some are done, some are a work in progress, and some were deleted and even burned in a fire pit. Not really a pit, just my parents’ barbecue grill. One has to be practical: where the hell was I going to get a fire pit? I used what I had, so a barbecue grill it was. But hey, I digress here, talking about ways to burn paper. I actually regret burning or deleting my stuff because I grew to love rereading my old texts. As I was reminiscing about my writings through my life, I realized that, beyond deleted or unfinished things, lies the fact that I haven’t written anything about you. Well, to be honest, I have written some about you. Well, to be even more honest, it was our wedding vows, and I had to write a tad, at least, about you and mostly about our relationship. So, it doesn’t count as it isn’t 100% about you.

This one is about the love of my life, and it’s 100% about you.

It’s funny to think that we became what we are because you were so quiet the first time we spoke online, on that August 31st in 2013. I have it etched in my mind. You seemed shy, so far away from the expert dancer in undies that I get to see after you shower nowadays. You didn’t speak a lot, and I, as usual, filled the awkward silence and blabbed away. I must have lost myself in my words, but I kept looking at you. I thought that you were scared. Have I ever told you that? I thought you were horrified by my word vomit. You suddenly said you had to leave, and I thought that was it. This next bit you know: I was surprised when you reached out to me again and asked for my number. This time you were different; you seemed more sure of yourself. I wish I could remember when we had that conversation, but I don’t. I think it was some time in early September.

By the time it was mid-September, we were already having our first disagreement. It was the first time I saw you being in a negative light. I guess no one is perfect. You aren’t, and I am not (I guess no one is further away from being perfect as me, and no one is closer than you). The next day you made that video where you asked me to forgive you. You made me laugh not at you, but from the cheesiness of using a movie that I liked (Love Actually) as a way of saying sorry. We had many talks, and then you wanted to say that you loved me. You didn’t say it with the actual L word, and I responded that I felt the same.

When I finally came to see you, I never wanted to let you go. During that first visit, among many things, you also showed me your sides that I did not know so much about: your anxieties. I remember that I told you I understood you because of my sister and myself, and I told you all about that. I learned that time too about how I could be comfortable around you because you never judged me for things I could not control: my mental struggles, my health issues, all the things that were used as weapons against me before, and turning into a source of personal shame. With you, they were nothing more than an “it happens; you’re ok.” I knew then I could be myself around you.

When in that 2014 NYE, you said you wanted to marry me one day; I saw in your eyes you meant it. I will always love you for that. I know that it makes you not sad nor distressed, but maybe bothered, that you have never given me a real ring. I have had rings before, and they ended up either meaning taking someone to the ER (my cousin tried it on; it got stuck, and her finger was turning blue!) or becoming trash on the curb outside my apartment window, as it deserved to be. I don’t have a ring, but I have you and your love for me. I know all of that when I get to look at you every day. If it makes you feel better, get the ring. It’s more for you than for me. But I gotta say I’ll like anything if it is a present from you.

You say that your heart is too big physically, but I think it is metaphorically too. I said this before, but no one ever took care of me or loved me like you do. Family did that, but they had to, right? You didn’t have to, but you do it every day. I feel bad that sometimes I act like a witch and hurt your feelings. I made you cry and broke your heart when I said I might have to leave. Not because I didn’t love you but because I might not have had a chance to stay in a land that is not my own. You know that. You also hurt me a few times because no one is perfect, remember? I have seen some of your bad sides, your anger when your big blue eyes almost came out of your head. Knowing how well you can hold a grudge, I am happy to know that we live hate-free and are always able to forgive each other for the stupid things we did or said.

I know you feel somehow sad about my life here. I do too, every now and then. I had many things to do before I met you, a career and all that. But I felt lonely. I did not have a home. I know I had a home in the meaning of having a house. I think the closest I had to feeling I had an actual home was with my daxies: they loved me because they wanted to, not because they had to. I felt like that to them. When I hugged you for the first time, I knew I was in a big home because home is not a place; it is a person. That person is you. It is and will always be you and only you. Maybe our dogs someday will be tiny guest houses added to the blueprint of the home we made together; they will expand and fix the ones my daxies left behind with tiny holes in them.

I love you with all my heart. You and your sensitivity, your kind heart, and weird dances. What some people pointed out as being your faults, I see as qualities that made me want you even more.

Like I said, no one is perfect, but I think we are perfect for each other, and I am glad we took a chance and became each other’s home.

❤️

Happy 10 years since we met.

31st of August 2023