True Love Can Feel Unreal When You’ve Never Known It

True Love Can Feel Unreal When You’ve Never Known It

What if it’s all an illusion?

Photo by spirit111 on Pixabay

We’re in bed, me on top of him after yet another night of sexual bliss. He’s tickling my back, and I run my fingers down his waist. I cradle his newly shaven cheek as our lips part and tongues dance.

After what felt like an hour, I roll off his chest and sigh as our fingers meet and hands clasp together like the last found puzzle piece.

I want to say I love you, but I’m silent. I wait to hear him say it first for some reason yet unknown, since I know he loves me. In that pause, a sudden rush of fear surges.

What if he’s only saying it because I say it? What if his feelings aren’t as deep, and he’s putting on an act to please me? What ifs crowded out our reality as my head spun.

What if our love is too perfect to be real?

My past taught me that love is fleeting, that partners leave or were never there from the start. What if I’m living a dream and will wake one day to find I was wrong about everything? How could we possibly be this aligned all the time?

I said I love you aloud, and he said it back. Then I shared my thoughts in my typically vague fashion.

“I’m having feelings about our love right now.”

I had to repeat it since he’s deaf in one ear. I laughed and said it was a gift that he didn’t hear me the first time, since it pushes me to be authentic in everything I say. At least I think I said that part out loud. I told him I’d share more later since it was late.

Although my feelings lingered until I fell asleep, I awoke free from worry.

After years of tragic relationship outcomes, I’m not surprised I felt this way and expected it might come up eventually. But I was taken by the timing.

Our level of intimacy keeps deepening. Our love feels broad, inclusive, and expansive. I trust he’s being real with me. Our friendship continues to grow. Yet, I chose one of the more intimate times to doubt his love. Why?

Some of us haven’t had a healthy partner before, and I’m one of them.

We’ve taken our healthy relationship to a level I’ve never reached. I picked a good one, y’all. And he picked me. He really did.

Nothing is wrong. So I don’t know what my deal was that night, other than fear convincing me I was unlovable.

Maybe there is such a thing as a perfect relationship.

Everything between us feels right and good, and, well, perfect. And we all know there’s no such thing as perfect, right?

Right?

Every touch is exactly what I want, and he responds in kind to what I offer. Every conversation resonates. We’re both vegan, leftist, and favor community over capitalism. He’s incredibly attractive and can turn me on with a look.

It’s been a year since our first date. It’ll take time to recognize where we don’t align, if at all. It’s possible we just haven’t annoyed or upset each other because we aren’t there yet.

But what if we’re one of those couples who match like magic and stay together until one of us croaks? Every time I talk to those unicorn couples, they say they don’t argue. Not that they don’t disagree sometimes, but they’re low-conflict. That’s us so far.

I’m not saying we’re not without our quirks and differences, but we match so well. It’s hard to know how we might handle bigger challenges within our relationship, but I believe we can navigate whatever comes our way and come out the other side alright.

Maybe I need to remember I’m perfectly imperfect like everyone else.

While we were lying there being all lovey-dovey, I was letting out some of the world’s smelliest farts. I found that a particularly hilarious coincidence. He said nothing about me stinking up the bed, of course.

We all act like everything’s fine, to be nice. He acts as if I always smell like a rose. We’re fucking fantastic, no matter what we do wrong or how stinky we get.

Incidentally, my mom has farted audibly all over our house for the past 40 years. My dad doesn’t care. He loves and accepts my mom exactly how she is and doesn’t try to change her.

No one, and I do mean that literally, has unconditionally accepted me as I am as completely as Jim appears to accept me.

Self-acceptance can remain elusive despite his acceptance of me.

There are aspects of myself I’m working to accept, and take notice when someone else can embrace every part of me with such ease.

Everybody farts, gets pimples, and misspeaks. But I’ll try to hide that I’m only human and hold myself to higher standards than are humanly possible.

I’ve cared about how my face looked since I was 10. I’m in my fifties now and still attempt to present with smooth, clear skin by covering up perceived flaws. I don’t accept that my cheeks are red with a rosacea rash. I don’t accept my skin-picking disorder, which can make it worse. I still wear makeup until we go to sleep, and put a little on when I wake up. I don’t want to do that anymore. So why do I continue? I think you all know why.

It’s as if I believe I need to be pretty on the outside for him to love my insides. Maybe he’ll be the one to convince me otherwise.

Despite knowing that most of what people say doesn’t always have such an impact, I feel like my words could make or break us. I’m prone to oversharing. I worry I’ll scare him away from something I say or write.

Yet, when he reads my stories or looks right at me and listens to what I say, I know he genuinely wants to understand and support me.

We have endless potential to fuck things up, but we haven’t. I’m not nearly as emotionally messy as I come across, either. I’m doing better than I think I am most days.

Does he accept my flaws? Yes, I believe he does. I accept he’s not perfect, either. But together, we’re just right.

Maybe that’s all we need to know. I answered my questions by asking them.

If you’re asking yourselves these questions, listen in the silence for the answer. I heard my inner child tell me that this is what healing feels like, that some things really do work out. I think she might be right.

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