It started with lattes, finished with laughter and a year later I find myself in love with the most incredible man. I have laughed more this past year, smiled until my cheeks hurt, and experienced things that were on lists that I had only hoped to experience. Pipe dreams and beyond. Not every moment has been easy. There have been tears, there has been fear, and I have had a number of traumas come to light. I have run away literally and figuratively. No fights, but heavy conversations with heavy topics- yet what do you expect when you have the ability to be truly open and honest with someone?
A year of texts, calls, conversations, and did I mention the laughter? I have never met anyone that makes me laugh the way he does; there are times it is unintentional and then there are the moments that he sets about the make me smile and laugh. Even sitting here now reflecting on the past year it makes me smile. My kids like to ask what we talk about, and the answer is everything and anything. We discuss our day, my kids, an adventure we're planning, cars, books, the chaos of life, computers, technology, food, beer, and so many things I can't even begin to list them. We talk about us too. We talk about where we are in the moment, where we are looking, and dance around the topic of the future. It's there, we know it is, yet there is something about being present and accepting of where we are right in the moment that has it's own beauty. I have been in other relationships where I spent a lot of time in my head about the future and planning the future that I missed the simplicity and beauty of the moment. This incredible man of mine helps me stay in the here and now. While we're in the midst of making plans for this upcoming winter we have the ability to look at the now, for which I am thankful.
I have spent much of this year healing from intense past traumas, and he has been there every step of the way, even when I'm terrified. In the moments when I am overwhelmed and running he has met me with patience and honesty and understanding. In April I was triggered by a small series of little things, things so small I could not explain them, but I bolted, took off to the trail without a goodbye, without a note, nothing. I knew I was running, I knew I should turn around and yet I just kept driving and then hiking. A few hours and buckets of tears later I picked up the phone; standing in a small windbreak at the top of a ridge on the Appalachian Trail in New Jersey I called to apologize. I stood there fighting back tears and shared that I was not ok, but that it was not ok how I left, how I treated him. As we navigated that phone call my tears subsided and I was able to find a bit of peace in the remainder of the hike. Peace I needed so that I could identify what had happened and connect with him post-hike. Full of fear and trauma response I met him after that trip, unsure how I would be received. He had told me he had forgiven me, but I knew I had hurt him, and the trauma and fear had me walking into that restaurant shaking. Seeing him sitting there smiling with a beer on the table I was brought back to the matcha latte table, the two moments overlaid for just a moment, and with that I found the ounce of courage I needed to step forward, sit down and begin a difficult conversation. How do you explain the trauma, the hurt, the fear from something so small when the person sitting next to you wants nothing but the best for you?
There have been no straightforward paths over this past year, and it has been challenging navigating my own traumas, hurts and fears, while he deals with own. Finding the balance of asking for my needs and meeting his needs is something I work at daily, and while it is easier it still takes effort. Finding myself on the receiving end of beautiful caretaking is a first. "I don't know what to do with this" is a phrase I use often. I have cared for myself and my crew for so long that I do not know how to be the receiver of such caretaking gifts. It should be a simple thing to have someone make you a meal, show up when you're not well, celebrate your birthday, and gift you something because they thought of you; in fact it's what I do. Yet my history is not such that it is something I am accustomed too. In the end it is something that I do not want to become accustomed too, it is something that I never wish to take for granted. I want to cherish and honor the caretaking, the heart and thought that is poured into some of these things.
I sit here a year later sipping my wine, wishing it was a matcha latte with company, yet we have had a year of matcha lattes, and we have more coming. More snowboarding, more hikes, more meals, more laughter, and more of the little things that are part of this journey of ours.
"Deep within us—no matter who we are—there lives a feeling of wanting to be lovable, of wanting to be the kind of person that others like to be with. And the greatest thing we can do is to let people know that they are loved and capable of loving." ~ Fred Rogers
