4 for 4 years

I. A beginningI met Zach in the middle of the pandemic. Terrified of physical intimacy but desperate for a romantic connection, I had been striking out on dates for around two years, meeting a lot of really nice people and unfairly working out my post-longterm-relationship mania drifting through a series of well-intentioned but emotionally stunted dates.

Holed up in a two-bedroom duplex with my brother, I was reeling from a lot of things: a global pandemic, a growing dissatisfaction with my dead-end job, and a strained roommate relationship that had long since passed its prime.1 I messaged him first, some transparent ploy at establishing a connection. I think I asked him what his current D&D character was. We talked for a while before agreeing to go on a social-distanced date at Zilker near the end of summer—the hottest day of the year. I was still messed up mentally, though whether or not he caught on to that is a question he’d have to answer for himself.

I had never really loved someone before, though I had convinced myself briefly that I did. Sure, it had been some time and I had been healing, but still, the process of earnestly seeking out a new romantic connection with someone left me nauseous and anxious. Subconsciously (or perhaps consciously depending on who you ask) I was worried about the inevitability of a breakup with anyone I fell in love with. I was approaching cautiously, my own anxious brain catastrophizing events rather than living through them. The addition of possibly infecting myself (or worse my brother) with a horrible and deadly illness only made things worse.

Still, I took the plunge and had a nice first date. We sat on a blanket underneath a large tree, taking quick sips of cider and beer and snacking on cookie cake, which he brought after an extended conversation where we both mentioned how much we loved it.

II. An interlude

I’m not spiritual or religious but have a recent strange obsession with charting how people drift in and out of our lives. Earnestly, I believe:

1. We have a way of attracting the people we need most at that period in our lives.

2. We love people for as long as we can.

3. Often the shame, guilt, or anger that comes from breakups or divorces is our collective inability to understand relationships (and the love that they bring) are not eternal promises but temporary pacts we forge to weather the chaotic storm of life.

This pattern of thinking, extended means:

1. I met Zach because I needed someone who was bright, confident, and full of love and joy.

2. I’ve continued to love Zach because I can continue to love him. The process is active, not done out of obligation, but continual admiration and acceptance of the things his brand of love and companionship offers me.

3. My own future shame at a hypothetical dissolution of our relationship would only stem from my inability to understand why I chose to forge this pact with him.

III. Anxiety and other emotions

We’ve been together for four years now and the realization that, in a few months, our relationship will be the longest in my life feels terrifying and gratifying. It’s hard to summarize four years and who wants to anyway? When I met Zach I was going through a lot of changes in my life. I was trying to be someone different than I had been in my past relationship. I knew my faults: that my anxiety and depression both manifested in this large spiral of shame, avoidance, and anxious attachment. I was so certain that everyone hated me, that I abandoned any form of vulnerability in favor of agreeing with anything the person I was seeking approval from said.

I wanted to be someone who loved better. I wanted to be someone who showed my partner all sides of myself, not just the ones I found most agreeable. For his part, Zach made that easy. He’s optimistic and bright, bubbly and full of joy. He commits to love naturally. On our first date, he said he wanted to build a life with someone. Every night he tells Cookie and me that he loves us, not out of obligation, but as a promise.

IV. Quiet parts of love

A recurring thought I have about love is that it’s grown primarily in quiet or innocuous bursts. Often (and for good reason) we seek out the blockbuster romantic moments as celebrations of our feelings for our partners. The enormity of emotions that encompass loving someone leads us to feel it’s necessary to make grand or sweeping gestures. But (at least for me) the quiet parts of love2 are equally important.

Here are some of the quiet or small things that I love about Zach:

1. The way he smiles and rocks in his desk chair when he’s playing a video game on Saturday.

2. How he makes breakfast in the mornings on weekends.

3. How addicted he can get to the coin-pushing games at arcades.

4. The way he plays with Cookie or shows him affection.

5. How he talks and hangs out with my brother.

6. The way he can so quickly and sharply pick out my annoying habits. The best recent one being, “I’m dating you, of course, I know what the Wirecutter is.”

7. How, if we are out in public somewhere (usually at Radio) and one of the kids in his classroom at work is there too, they will get giddy at seeing him but also kind of shy, hiding behind their parents till they work up the courage to give him a hug.

8. The fact that, in the above scenario, he won’t demand a hug or attention but instead will just tell that kid hello and let them feel whatever emotion they’re feeling.

9. That there’s a 65% chance if I go into our shared office he will be on his computer creating a new D&D character or updating his FFXIV glam.

10. The way he eats a cupcake.

11. How he bursts into song when he’s feeling happy.

12. How he loves karaoke3 and how he will, without fail, get up on stage or in front of a group of people after an hour or two of songs and casually belt out a stunning karaoke performance and then go sit back down like he was just a mid-tier singer.

13. How much knowledge he has about women’s gymnastics every 4 years.

14. The way he wakes up in the morning.

15. How he always drives.

16. How if a big truck is parked over the lines or doing something obnoxious he’ll say “i’m going to key them”

17. How, after a movie, he’ll succinctly and intelligently break down the major themes of a movie4 or what the director was going for and then be like “If that makes any sense.”

18. so much more