For You In Whole

I’ve been thinking about how to say this without hiding behind my certainty and strength.

I am afraid sometimes, not of loving you, but of losing you. I keep it hidden from our relationship because you may find that unattractive. It deviates from the role of man and quiet confidence you may have come to expect. I am sure it shows sometimes. I am no longer hiding it behind a mask, smooth words, or focus on what is next. So, here it is.

I don’t tell you I fear losing you because I want reassurance, because I want you to feel pressure or weight. I say it because it is true, and I don’t want anything truly important between us to live only in silence, unspoken.

You came into my life in a way that felt natural, not from struggle, not from chasing you, and not dramatic. There was no rush. It just happened quietly. The way we entered each other's lives feels like kind that doesn’t ask questions right away, because fate already knows what it is looking at. From the beginning, I felt how carefully you move through the world, how thoughtfully you choose friends, how you process your life and communicate it to me.

I listened to your stories about your day to day life, and then your past. I care about you whether or not you stay in love with me. Over time I began to fall in love with you not just romantically, but in a deeper more selfless way. My heart is woven into your pain, your joy, and your dissapointments.

It is scary sometimes, to realize how invested I am in the existence of you. After all, we are humans that do not always live up to your best, but even in that variance we give each other grace, forming an even closer bond. We past many layers of mask protecting what remains underneath. And I feel l handled all of it with care, showing you that I am here to love, not to hurt, you.

How you hold yourself back until something feels real enough to deserve you is a restraint in your that is part of why I further fell in love. We went through this to prepare each other for enduring love, and I see that. You led some of that journey ever so delicately.

With you, I don’t feel the need to impress or be more than I am. I feel the need to be accurate and open. Everyday I show up honestly, even when that means admitting uncertainty or fear, disappointment or the falling off my confidence and drive towards our future.

I don’t want to be admired from a distance. I want to be seen where I am human. People see me and how I am, and they show me respect and admiration. But that is hollow. You are the first person I truly let in. Everyone else frightens me. They feel cognitively incomplete, like I am not talking to a whole person. That is lonely feeling, not by lack of presence, but by lack of connection fully. We have that full connection.

There are moments when I imagine a future without you, and it feels like a room where the air begins to squeeze my throat. I don’t fall apart in those thoughts, but I feel how much weight you carry in my life. I sharpen my image of much quieter and more meaningful everything became once you were in it. That isn’t dependence or weakness. It is me shaping responsibility and want around recognition of your value unique to me and our experience.

I know you are careful with your heart. I respect that. I don’t want to rush you, corner you, or pull you somewhere you are not ready to go. I want you to choose me only if it feels right in your body and your mind, and not because of many varieties of emotions and feelings alone.

What I can say is this:

When I am with you, I am more present. I listen better. I think more clearly. I am softer without being weaker. Loving you has not made me smaller. It has made me more exact about what matters. I believe I do the same for you. I believe we love each other in parallel to this mutual gift.

If this ever ends, I will survive. But I don’t want to live as if that ending is inevitable. I want to meet you where we are now, alive, breathing, still choosing. I want to hold what we have with care, not fear.

I am here, naked in spirit and mind

Not perfect, not wearing a mask.

Just here with all laid bare,

for you in whole.

And I wanted you to know that.