That someone you’ve been waiting for.

Hoping for.

With all your heart.

Someone who makes you laugh.

Who makes you feel completely, utterly comfortable with your whole self. No, he makes you understand that you are complete already. He tells you how beautiful you are and you know he is telling the truth.

You kept putting yourself out there, taking risks, with the knowledge that he existed. The Universe just hadn’t brought you together yet.

That someone who would not have come into your life unless you were ready.

Content in solitude.

Unless you had spent the time getting to know yourself and what you needed and wanted in a partner.

Unless you were able to pause and abandon some of the fear of being hurt. Unless you knew with certainty that you deserved a good man. Unless you stopped making excuses for those men who hurt you, used you, were unsure about you. Who were not as deserving of you. Who made you question how amazing you are.

Unless you were willing to accept him into your life.

Because a year ago, we would not have been this perfect for each other.

Today?

We are together because we both know we are deserving of love and we are open to the kindness.

I knew in one moment early on that he was the one I wanted to be with. I knew I did not want it to end. I was so scared, but I can tell you exactly when I knew he was the one I deserved to be with, the one who was good for me. The one who would make me a better person. The one who wanted to be a better person for me. Yet, the one who accepts and cares for all of me. The one I accept completely. The one who is not perfect and the one who doesn’t expect me to be perfect.

The one who will sit with me at my coffee table while I do work late into the night. Without judgment. Because sometimes he has to work late into the night with me. But we are able to be together, so we are happy.

The one who tucks my hair behind my ear. Who kisses me all the time. Touches my hand across the table at a restaurant.

The one who who sends me texts that make my heart stop. Who makes me want to be cheesy. Corny, even. The one who brings out the hopeless romantic in me. The one who is romantic even though he doesn’t realize it. Just don’t tell him I said that.

The one I want to care for, but the one who wouldn’t ask me to take care of him. The one I don’t want to fix. The one I would never ask to fix me.

The one who makes mistakes. The one who is honest in his apologies. Who is thankful. Who is forgiving.

The one I can call a boyfriend, the one who can call me his girlfriend. Yet, I don’t refer to him as anything but his name. Two syllables, by the way.

The one who wants me. All of me.

The one I met last March via a mutual friend at my birthday party. He chose the most excellent music in the jukebox – Radiohead and The Killers I remember in particular. He seemed nice. And cute. We chatted.

That was that.

Months later, we met again.

And we are happy. Together.

I hope you all have a lovely Valentine’s Day. Mine is, once again, not so sexy or revolutionary. But it is different this year. I am in a place filled with contentment. I can share my life and this day with someone.

I will go to bed knowing this man I have come to adore also adores me.

I am grateful.

Happy.

Thank you, Universe.

More please.