Love & Safety

I was just thinking about my birthday, and honestly, the best part of the day was having him celebrate with me. A couple of weeks after May 9th when he had come over, I had begun to accept that things were over between us and making conscious steps towards healing. I remember being in the kitchen daydreaming about him being with me on my birthday, and as things would turn out, he did end up being here.

Just having him here, being in his presence is very... Every time he's around, I just feel... I just feel light and unburdened; light in a year where I've been shouldering issues that are too heavy for me. When he's around, everything feels like it's going to be OK and even if things don't turn out being OK, I know that I have that safe haven in just his presence, is that crazy?

I remember that night when we had slept in the same bed for the first time in a long time, mid-sleep, he took my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine, and we held hands like that for hours while we slept, and it just felt heavenly. I love him for so many reasons, I really do, and although he knows that I love him, I am terrified to say it to his face, because, what if he panics and runs?

I love him because he understands, and I believe that he also shares my feelings on the importance of touch. He touches me like no one has; cliché and corny as that sounds. It feels good to be touched, there's a level of intimacy in touch that on some level is deeper than sex and he really gets that about me. In the past, I have had to suffer trauma where I've been touched against my will and physically hurt because someone was trying to forcefully touch me, and that has left scars that will probably never fade, but the way he touches me gives me hope that they can heal and fade. The way he touches me makes me feel like I can be whole again, it makes me feel like I'm a person who can be loved. The way he touches me makes me feel like he sees me, and this is important for me as someone who has had to live through quite a bit of sexual assault where I didn't have a voice. The gentle way that he touches me makes me feel like one day all the grief and hurt isn't going to matter anymore by virtue of the fact that I’ve experienced him. When he touches me, it makes me feel like he cares, like he wants me to be there, it makes me see that his affection is intentional. It makes me feel like maybe he really wants to understand me and perhaps on some level already does understand my need to be touched intimately.

It really is the little things, like when we sit together on the couch and there's no gap in between us, or we are making conversation, and he touches me, or we're asleep, and parts of our bodies are touching. It makes me feel ...hope.

Despite the hurt that he caused me, I haven't been able to shake the feeling that he makes me happy. I do not have an elaborate list of why he makes me happy, he just makes me happy by being who he is, I don't even know if that makes sense. I do not feel inhibited with him. I remain me, wonderfully weird, and I am comfortable with who I am.

When I am around him, I feel something very new to me, it's beyond comfort, it's safety, I feel safe. Safety around men for me is an oxymoron because there's that constant fear that things could quickly go south, which is something I have experienced with men in the past. I was assaulted by my college professor, who I regarded as a father and mentor, which is how the concept of safety where men are concerned became outlandish to me. I don't feel that fear with him, I really don't. He is soft with me, and I need that because I have all these repressed borderline violent emotions from past experiences that have made me into this person living in fear.

I could say I love him because we both love candles and travelling. I could say I love him because we are movie nerds, because we have a good time every time we are together, because we have the most random conversations, because he makes me laugh or because I feel like my lips were molded to kiss his or because of the sound of his voice. I could say I love him because the sound of him snoring doesn't bother me at all, it develops a rhythm that helps me sleep. I could say I love him because I'm always excited to see him, I could say I love him because he has a fascinating perspective on things. I could say I love him because he really is a beautiful man. I could say I love him because he's the first person that I have ever shared cutlery and glassware with, I could say love him because I have never met anyone like him, but ultimately, I love him because I feel safe.