“The previously unloved may find it hard to believe that they are now loved; that is such a miracle, they feel; such a miracle.”
-Alexander McCall Smith (The Good Husband of Zebra Drive)
There are moments even now, a decade into knowing you, that I expect to wake up alone. I expect to wake up and find that not only are you not physically there but there’s no evidence that you were ever there.
This time I’ve spent with you is the only thing in my life that has ever matched what I aspired to in dreams. In fact, being with you is better than almost every dream I have. It’s a rare one that comes even close to what being with you is like. And then those dreams aren’t better but different.
There is nothing better than you. There is no topping this.
It has been long enough that I should probably take you for granted. Maybe another woman might. She’d get comfortable, grow secure. Expect to find you there every morning. She would never expect it to ever end suddenly. And perhaps it would seem normal to her, to be so adored. She might never think that being loved is a miracle.
But I am not that woman. I know what it is to be alone. Deeply alone and surrounded by happy couples who whisper conspiratorily to one another about… whatever they share with one another that I’m not part of.
I know what it is to be on my own and convinced that I will always be. That there will never be anyone who wants to spend much time with me. Let alone get to know me and understand me.
I don’t think I will ever forget what that feels like. And that is why I never forget that being loved is a miracle.