don't read this

i love my wife

what is intimacy, what does it mean for two souls to learn each other, to be vulnerable, open yourself up to the greatest harms, to know and be known, to love, to be safe and at total risk...

my heart is so full

even just doing the dishes for him is so fucking meaningful

HE IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE

every hope for living I've ever had... is in him

my childhood dream i knew was an illusion at 12, of being understood and understanding, of human connection, of true love...

my life is perfect.

i have lived, i live, i am living.

i never knew such love existed... rather, I KNEW IT DIDN'T... but it does...

he loves me dearer than his own heart

i can only hope to love him as deeply

i am trying so fucking hard


i have realized i am not building resentment.

in the past, resentment was when i was not really loved... when i could tell the other person was just Not Interested and careless with my effort...

he needs help sometimes. all the time.

but he loves me, and that is the difference

what point is resentment? resent what?

he needs help and i want to help. i want him to be well!

and i know that him relying on me is an act of intimacy, not callous cruelty

and there is intimacy in my helping him, in taking on responsibility, in stretching myself for him, suffering for his well-being, in confronting the cruelties in my heart so that i can love him better...


to know so carefully the shape of his own soul...

to be so infinitely delicate...

he is my sun. warmth and life and worthy of worship

a little dandelion seed burning as brightly as the sun...