About love. About us.

I’m not sure a contract binds us or that we’ve taken vows in another life. There’s no symbols, no jewelry, no name-change between us. Most assume we have a title that has weathered us through storms and day breaks. I’ll tell you there’s no such thing that binds us more than experiencing this life together. We’ve birthed a child. We’ve both hit rock bottom, thankfully, at opposing times where one of us scoops the other from the earth to say, “I love you more than you know.” And the other, in time, will say, “you saved me.” It is a running theme that our unit continues to cycle around loss and gain with each passing year, we remain. At times, disconnected seemingly written on opposing pages. Somehow we return to write scores with pen strokes as one. I cannot count the night’s spent on dance floors and elixirs, with our eyes locked on one another. I cannot count the traces and turns of skin, as my eyes close to its warmth. I cannot count the leaps we’ve made, since we are still falling. I think we’ve had a lifetime kept by another, yet wild and un-caged. We’ve yet to make a formal commitment, to say you’re mine sounds too possessive, maybe too traditional. I don’t seek ownership. I’ll tell you I never correct others that think of us as so, for we remain as though. As I am mine, and at your side, I stand. A lifetime with you feels like one, in our way we’ve made it and continue to make it. I am one with you, I love you more than you know. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for loving me. Mr. Tiller-man.

stephanie birch