I woke up this morning to the feel of my partner’s hand caressing my back. He woke up before I did (he usually does) and decided that waking me up with his affectionate touch would probably be more enjoyable than hearing the sound of my alarm. He was right. Instead of the sound of an Angels and Airwaves song blasting me out of my sleep, I was lulled into wakefulness by the feeling of my partner’s skin and the gentle sound of his voice next to my ear.
I’m a die-hard romantic. I have always loved the sweet little things that people do for the one’s they love. My partner has done some pretty tremendously big things for me too, but the little things he takes the time to do for me are what make my heart swell. So today, in the glory of the spring sunshine, I’m starting a deep clean of our condo as way of thanking him for all the things he does, big and small.
Our condo, thankfully, isn’t “messy.” We’re not messy people. But there is some clutter. I’ve already washed all the bedsheets and pillow cases. Once they’re dry, I’ll be making the bed. I’ve picked up most of my garbage from after my surgery and most of our dishes are clean and put away. So it’s really just a matter of keeping up on the clutter and making sure the floors stay swept and mopped. So this week, I’m focusing on really getting our condo to a place of tidiness and peacefulness. My stuff is always organized (I can’t work or write in a space that’s messy or cluttered), and our living space is generally very tidy. But going deeper into spring, I’m determined to keep on top of some of the minor things that slip away from us a lot.
Living in a space with someone who has more patience than I knew a human body could posses has been wonderful for my mental health. It’s something about my partner that really does make me feel like I couldn’t possibly be any luckier than I am. I have my own space. I have a kitchen where I can cook and explore new recipes. I have a back deck where I can watch the birds and stare at the trees and feel the wind, a place where I can read and write and enjoy the feeling of being outside without necessarily having to get in my car and drive somewhere.
My time is my own. I can be me without facing judgment or having to meet unrealistic expectations. Since my marriage, I’ve never had this before. I’ve never had a place that really felt like mine, a place where I didn’t have to be on edge all the time or walk on eggshells. It’s a feeling of genuine safety, and I didn’t know what it felt like until I moved in with my partner. And it makes me want to do everything I possibly can for him. It’s really my own personal ray of sunshine that fills my life with warmth, with color, and with the sense of growing, blooming life.
