Life pulls us in different directions, you know? Some days we’re wild with desire, some days we’re moving slow. Some days we wake up and crave another’s touch, some days we roll out of bed with our to-do lists already writing themselves in the folds of our mind.

Loving another person is so hard. We all come with expectations, with rule books we’ve created unintentionally, from the last person we let touch our heart. We fall into someone’s embrace with hopes hidden behind our smiles, with dreams or fears of a future not quite written.

We want someone to love us how we need to be loved, but sometimes we don’t even know ourselves what that means.

We’re looking for answers, looking for reflections of ourselves in another person’s eyes. Sometimes we come with baggage. Sometimes we come searching for truth. Sometimes we don’t yet know who we are and we’re using someone else’s perception of us to shape is, both positively and negatively.

But we step into love with wants and needs, and they don’t always align with what our partner is feeling. That’s why love is so damn hard. We’re forever trying to figure out what matters to us, while writing ourselves onto the pages of someone else’s life. Suddenly our stories are not two separate books on a shelf; they’re one interwoven tale. And that’s so strange, so scary, so wonderful. To love and be loved.

But sometimes we forget. We forget how beautiful and powerful that word can be, manifested in our lives. We forget the weight, the emotion, the vulnerability involved. We forget that we’re doing our best. We forget that we’re human. We forget that the people we fall into are human too, and we’re all trying to make sense of who we are and how to love someone as perfectly as we can when we’re all so damn imperfect.

So when I forget how much I am loved by you, when I forget who I am to you, what our connection means, please remind me.

When the whirlwind of this life takes over, when we’re both caught up in our plans and dreams, when our days drag on and we become frustrated and empty, remind me that no matter what happens, you’ll stand by my side.

When we fight and our voices raise, when we retreat to opposite corners, when I set my phone down and stare at your text without a response, remind me that we won’t always see eye-to-eye and that’s okay. It doesn’t mean you care any less. It doesn’t mean you’re walking away.

When we’re just so damn tired of the mess of this life, when our hope has dwindled and we stare at the sky, wondering whether or not we’ve made a mistake, remind me that it’s natural to question, natural to doubt, natural to be imperfect because we are imperfect.

Remind me that no matter the storms of this life, you’re not afraid to fight through them with me.

Remind me that with you, I’m never alone. Because sometimes I get scared. Sometimes I close my eyes and feel a wave of restlessness wash over me. Sometimes I wrestle with the temporary nature of this world, the urge to just leave and seek something elsewhere versus learning and growing and choosing to stay.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m being silly, if I’m settling for less simply because we aren’t perfect. And then I wonder if I’m naively falling into the contemporary love trap—being too selfish and close-minded to see that this is real, that this is what relationships are about, fighting to stay together despite all odds.

Sometimes I just need a reminder that you’re here, that you care, that you’ve wrestled with the same fears but have chosen to stay, too.

Sometimes I just need to hear your words, your heart, your thoughts. Sometimes I just need to know that you’re thinking of me, and even though you don’t have all the answers and your mind is clouded with fears just like mine, you want this.

And that won’t change.

Because life pulls us in different directions. Some days we wake up with thoughts of one another on our minds, and some days we’re opening our eyes and already running through all we have to do for the next ten hours. Some days our conversations flow smoothly, one text right into the other, no hesitation, no awkwardness. And some days it’s like we don’t know what to talk about, heavy pauses and white space filling our screens.

But I’m slowly learning that I can’t put expectations on relationships, on people, on what I hope to happen, or how exactly it will play out. I can’t be so critical of myself, of you, simply because I’m hoping you’ll love me how I need to be loved, without really seeing that maybe you’re already loving me in every way you know.

Maybe, in some ways, we’re both searching for things in one another that we haven’t quite found. But there’s time, isn’t there? So much time to discover, to learn, to understand.

Right now, I just need a reminder—that even when our thoughts don’t align, even when we can’t understand what’s tumbling around in one another’s heads, even when we’re confused or hesitant or doubtful—you’re here, like I’m here. And that won’t change.

Sometimes I’m so quick to forget what I mean to you, forget that you care. So baby, please tell me those words again. Tell me, and strengthen me.

I am loved, I am yours.

Marisa Donnelly is a poet and author of the book, Somewhere on a Highway, available here.