The Kind Of Love That’s Still Worth Believing In

I believe in waking up to a good morning text. Not because you feel like you need to do it, or because you saw someone do it in a movie one time, but because the first thing you want to do when you wake up without me is to feel like I’m next to you. I’ll write you just before I go to bed — I always get to sleep later — and when I wake up, your response will be there:

“Good morning, beautiful.”

I want to hold your hand across the table at dinner, without even realizing I’m doing it. I believe in public displays of affection that never feel public, because we don’t even notice anyone’s around us. Sometimes we’ll be that couple on the train who is kissing in the corner, and neither of us will care, because this world could use a little more love. Some people will look at us and think “Get a room,” and we’ll wish we could say back, “The world is our room.”

I believe in talks, the healthy kind that take on a life of their own and sometimes pass through flushes of disagreement or debate, but always end up back where we should be: the truth. I’ll tell you about my day, and not the superficial details that we tell someone who asked “How was your day?” without really caring. I’ll tell you about the great things I thought, and the sad person I saw in the restaurant, and the way I felt walking across the bridge. Then I’ll listen to you talk about your day, and wish I could have been there with you.

Because it’s about sharing, isn’t it? Getting the privilege of sharing someone’s life, of being a part of all the things they dream about and achieve, and getting to hold them through their failures. Life will fail us, but it will fail us together, and we’ll share both the pain and the joy. I believe that it is a great honor to share someone’s details, and I will do my best to be your teammate.

Sometimes we’ll be friends, though, because I believe that friendships make the best romances. We’ll order a large pizza and watch dumb TV shows in our pajamas and get into play fights that turn into something different, something much better. We’ll fall asleep all over the house because sometimes we’re having too much fun to ever really go to bed. Together, we’ll get to be the rowdy kids who want to stay up past their bedtimes and eat junk food while telling scary stories. We’ll never feel like we have to grow up.

I believe in you, even if I haven’t met you, even if I never will. I believe that you’re out there — the person who will send me a text in the morning, share the last slice, and be my teammate. Somewhere, you’re out there taking your time and waiting for something meaningful to come into your life. And maybe we will never find that perfect thing, and maybe we’ll never meet, but that’s okay. Because I want to spend my whole life believing in something truly great — something truly spectacular and rare — even if I’m alone in my faith.