He's got the details of me.

My husband and I met at the, to date, darkest time in my life; so when I say that he has truly seen me at my very worst and my very best- it's no exaggeration. He quietly slipped into my world during a time when people were constantly crashing in and storming out, and before I knew it I realized that he had been there, demanding nothing of me, for quite some time. So, we started hanging out- we spent time together, lots of time. He was so quiet, and for me- as a person who tends to talk a lot- it was oddly very comforting to me, because his quiet just felt so peaceful, I didn't have to think of anything to say- and I didn't have to remember all the things I wasn't supposed to say.

Over the course of time he sat a little closer to me, close enough that I could hear the witty, sarcastic remarks that he whispered under his breath just loud enough for only me to hear- which would send me into fits of giggles at completely inappropriate moments, leaving everyone staring at me as he sat innocently by. It should come as no surprise that I have a very hard time convincing people that he is the meaner more sarcastic one of the two of us. He's tricky that way.

I feel sad for him when I think back to how he had to just sit back and watch as I disrespected myself and let others disrespect me, as I gave myself away and as others took from me. He saw, but there was nothing he could do about it and he knew that, but on the nights when I felt like everything had been taken from me and was unsure that there was anything left inside me at all, he had a way of reminding me that I was still a person when I felt like a shell. He brought laughter into my world when it when I felt hopeless. He brought comfort in and asked nothing in return on the nights when he knew I had nothing to give.

Sometimes I sit and have to think, what did I bring into his life during that time? I know that I brought a lot of words into his world, both because I would talk a lot and because I coaxed him into talking, by listening to the whispers that no one else heard, and asking him a million questions- most of which he just shrugged in response to- but when he actually answered, he knew that I was listening. Maybe I brought in the sense that I wanted him around- him specifically- not just anyone, I didn't invite him into my day to day life by default, he knew that I wanted him there. I know also that I brought in a lot of unexpected adventure, constantly convincing him to do crazy, silly things- like stealing a shopping cart from Walmart and rolling down hills in it at midnight like we had a death wish.

For a long time, we never tried to change each other- now I see that we were practicing a wisdom that we didn't even recognize at the time, which is that you shouldn't ask someone to change in a relationship like the one we had until you've first accepted the other person exactly where they're at. It's really only fair to point out areas where they need to change after you've loved them in the middle of their mess.

He chose me, even when I blatantly refused to choose him back- even when I outright rejected him. He chose me even when he had to sit back and watch me make dangerous, bad decisions, and let himself be the safety net for the moments when I would inevitably fall off of the tightrope that I lived on. I think he was okay with waiting because he saw the way that I was an all or nothing person- and maybe he knew that if he was patient and I chose him back, that I'd be all in, and that's exactly what happened. He never made me feel bad for my mistakes- he never made me pay a price for all the promiscuity he witnessed. I think that even before he knew more about me, a part of him always knew that I wouldn't have made all the choices he watched me make if it weren't out of a place of intense pain and desperation. There never was, nor has there ever been, a hint from him that he would ever hold my bad choices over my head. He waited me out, and once I decided to be his, he loved in a way so unconditional that it still sometimes catches me off guard.

In May we will have been married for seven years, and despite the storms we've weathered we've kept choosing each other, despite our flaws, despite the ways we drive each other crazy, despite the fact that we are polar opposites, despite the way that we can fight like cats and dogs, despite the moments when our worst selves are showing- we keep apologizing, keep forgiving, keeping giving it another shot, keep going back to the drawing board, keep changing to become better versions of ourselves... We keep loving each other, we keep liking each other, we keep deciding that we want to stay in this dance a little longer, and I'm so grateful, because truly I wouldn't want to do life with anyone else.

In thinking about these things today I wrote a piece about him and decided to share it here.

I'll give you the Details:

When we were young

There were places on our bodies

Called private parts,

And they didn't mean our hearts.

I will admit that in no sense of the word

Did I ever consider

Those spaces sacred,

or secret,

or secured.

So when I found you,

I knew there were no private parts

That were private to just you.

And it hurt to know,

That I had saved nothing,

That could be yours alone,

Or that no one had before thought

That maybe I wanted those secret places

To be all but forgot,

As if those places had slipped their mind

Or as if they'd remembered those places were mine.

But as we grew older and into each other

I realized that there was more than one kind

Of private place,

And you knew and loved them all-

The freckle on my right pinkie toe,

The bend on the back of my knee-

The birth mark along the side of my ear,

that can only be felt and not seen.

The curve of my shoulder blades,

The scar on my hip-

And every new, mysterious bruise.

I gave you the details of me

That no one except you

Ever bothered to stop and see-

Because through the years

When you could have taken the interstate

Over my body

To get quickest to your final destination,

You kept choosing the scenic route;

With the back winding roads

And unkempt bridges over swollen rivers

On the days when the rain was too heavy.

You pulled off the shoulder, my shoulder,

And gazed off an overlook

that only you have ever seen.

If it weren't for you,

If it weren't for how you've traveled me

And still look for unexplored territory,

I would have never known

That someone could see

And love all of me.