I Didn’t Lose Myself In You, I Gained The World

For one year, our lives have woven themselves together.

That tapestry, the pattern so intertwined with contrasting colors and textures from our separate experiences. Soft whispers of threads are woven so tightly together that they become a single fabric: stronger, richer, and more valuable in the infinite strands that cannot be differentiated – yours, mine.

For the first time, I do not worry about the loose threads. I no longer fear pulling the wrong one that would leave us both in rags, completely unraveled.

Instead, I trace the pattern, the brilliant colors. I watch with eagerness as our stitches in time, our loops and knots, come together to provide comfort and warmth.

For one year, we have traversed the ups and downs.

The terrain, ever-changing with obstacles springing forth and life’s blows landing squarely on our jaws. Often we leap from peak to peak, pulling each other across the gaping valleys and dizzying drops, building bridges and encouraging the other to jump when one of us is reluctant.

For the first time, I am not afraid of the dark drops into the valleys. I no longer fear your hand losing mine in the dust and rubble, leaving me left behind to fend for myself.

Instead, I look towards the sunshine. I point myself in the right direction, sure-footed on our blossoming trail, headed towards yet another peak.

For one year, the everyday has happened.

Our unique balance, the ins and outs of daily life that have become so predictable yet are as particular as our fingerprints. The humdrum is somehow transformed and made beautiful by its commonality in our shared existence – the paradox of our very own ordinary.

For the first time, I do not contort myself to fill the voids or diminish myself to make space for you. I no longer fear the shortcomings of my flesh or the daunting depths of my heart.

Instead, I celebrate the extraordinariness of each day. We link our routines, building a chain of events – mundane, “nothing” moments that, together, become everything.

For one year, we have become better versions of ourselves.

Our truest selves, timidly stepping forward from shy shadows towards one another with vague recognition: the search is over. Steadily becoming more certain in the present, we laugh off the follies of our separate pasts, and look, grinning, towards our united future.

For the first time, I do not doubt what lies ahead. I no longer fear the “what ifs” of how I will pick up the pieces from the mess, yet again.

Instead, I stand straighter. You have my back, but I am not spineless; instead of suffocation, I feel a breath of fresh air, stronger, ready.

For one year, we have loved each other.

A palpable love, one with a depth that races through the veins, straight to the heart. One that grows with such strength and vitality that it can easily support its own grandness.

For the first time, I am certain. I no longer fear.

Instead of losing myself to you, I have gained the world.