This is a post that I’ve wanted to write for the longest time. It relates to every post that I ever wrote about loving oneself, getting to know oneself, and generally being happy alone –that is opposed to have your life and worth be dictated by the relationship that you are in. But I missed a huge part of it that I’m getting to learn now. And it’s a hard lesson to learn.

It is easier to be happy alone than to be happy together. It takes more work, more energy, blind trust, work, tears, an aching feeling in your stomach when you don’t know what’s going on or when “what if…” wonders into far, dark parts of your mind.

And this whole thing is new to me. I’m trying to figure it out.

The hardest part of it all, is that it is illogical. You invest yourself, your emotions, your time, and there is no guarantee that things will work out –when you meet, when you’ve been together for 3 moths, 3 years, 3 decades. Lord knows life doesn’t turn out like fairy tales. Love is hard, and messy, and complicated. And so it begs the question “why bother?”

Because waking up next to you sets a positive tone to my day. Because talking to you somehow makes me less worried. Because sex with you feels different. Because maybe, maybe you can be someone who can stay in my life, enhance it, and you make me want to do the same thing to you.

So despite the fear, the unknown, the possibility of heartbreak. I choose to try. I choose to be vulnerable. I choose to feel the good and the bad.

And I know that “today, I love you.”