Whoever Gets To Love You Better Know How Lucky They Are

Natalie Allen
Natalie Allen

Before you came along, I didn’t understand the meaning of “selfless” love. Sure, I knew the definition. I saw it when my mother put my needs in front of hers over and over. It made sense within the context of family. I figured selfless love was something you shared in your blood. Those few individuals you would die for, literally take a bullet for.

But feeling that intensity for a romantic partner? Nah. I couldn’t imagine that ever happening.

I don’t think anyone who knows me would label me as a pessimist. If anything, I’m always wiling to give chances or hear someone out for why they behaved a certain way. I believe in the overwhelming goodness in everyone.

But experiencing a selfless love for a man who wasn’t my father just didn’t seem likely.

And then I met you.

I hate the idea of love at first sight because it denies all the complexity that comes with love. But I was in something with you at first sight. Maybe it was intrigue. Interest. An unexplainable sense of comfort. I knew I wanted you. I knew I wanted to love you and be the reason you laughed like you would. I knew I wanted to hug you when things were tough and be the person in the front row at every play, concert, improv show you ever had.

I loved you so deeply, it was selfless. It was without conditions. It just, was. It was there, woven in between us.

Even at our worst, it was so beautifully good.

But this isn’t about our break up, the fall out, the goodbye we never thought would occur.

This is about you, your heart, your compassion for everyone around you. It was easy to love you. It would be impossible not to.

Whoever ends up crafting a life with you is so lucky, and I’m sure they know it. It seems almost patronizing of me to swoop in with a reminder, like anyone who knows you would have to be told to treasure it.

I hope they kiss you and hug you and sit front row for every show, presentation, or concert you do. I hope they are your biggest supporter, your number one fan and sounding board. I hope they rub your back when it hurts and call your mom to see how she’s doing. I hope they travel to Japan with you.

I hope they know they are the luckiest.

Because I know at least once, I was. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Ari Eastman

✨ real(ly not) chill. poet. writer. mental health activist. mama shark. ✨

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