For whatever reason, I’ve never been the most affectionate person.
My approach to relationships has been a bit unorthodox in the past.
My heart is surrounded by a barrier comparable to the great wall of China, and my guards are there fighting off the Huns(AKA the feels).
I don’t like getting close to people, mainly because people kind of suck, if we’re being honest. I’m not innocent in this. I have been unkind and damaging in the past. My transgressions allow me to know what people are capable of.
But I’m letting go. I’m letting people in. I’m accepting affection.
I’ve never been this happy–not because of what we do together, but just because we ARE together. I’m comfortable with who I am, and he accepts that.
I feel admired for my flaws and quirks rather than tolerated.
It’s risky. Revealing yourself completely to another.
I surrendered my emotions, and let the wall down. I am more vulnerable than I have ever been. I’m terrified, yet exalted. This love is treacherous, yet pure. I’m enjoying this journey I’m on. I adore feeling complemented rather than mirrored.
He doesn’t say things just because he knows that’s what I want to hear. His words are always intentional. He is well-spoken, honest (sometimes brutally), and genuine.
I have trust. And that is saying a lot.
I’ve never seen a healthy relationship up close, but I finally feel like I’m getting first-hand experience on what love was designed to be.
It means being yourself without any repercussions. It means loving not lusting. It means only having eyes for that one person. It means being able to dance awkwardly around your apartment with no makeup on and rat-nasty hair on your head without them cringing (they may even laugh and call you adorable, if you’re lucky).
I talk too much. I’m insecure. And I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with my life. And that’s ok. I’m accepting affection–from others and myself.
Truly, I am captivated, enchanted, enamored. And I’d say that’s worth the risk of potential pain and heartbreak.