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Reasons I Know I’m with the Right Person

I have spent Valentine’s Days with the wrong person. 

This is, of course, something I wouldn’t realize for years. And when I say “with the wrong person” I mean more than just “not the person I will spend my life with.” I mean with the wrong person in every timeline. 

I say this with the gift of hindsight. 

I say this because now I’m spending Valentine’s Day with the right person. And that is something I never believed I might confidently say. 

For months now I’ve been jotting down notes in a folder called “reasons I know I’m with the right person.” I’d like to share a few of those today.

Because being with him feels like that one week of seasonal perfection when the leaves have started to fall but the New York City landlords haven’t turned on the heat yet. Only being with him means that week is neverending.

Because, when we’ve stayed up too late talking on a school night, he looks at the clock and his eyes widen in horror for my early bird wellbeing as he urgently reminds me that I need to go to bed.

Because when I’m dancing around my apartment kitchen heating up leftovers for dinner and singing off key, he no longer begs me to be careful, but rather casually grabs the corners of the counter so that I don’t bump my hip or my head as I’m shuffling to the music. 

Because when I, a notorious non-napper, decide to take a nap on the sofa while he and our friend play a video game and I ask him to wake me up in thirty minutes no matter what, even if I protest, he kindly, patiently, gently, encourages me awake despite my sleepy brain being a little (a lot) grumpy.

Because when, at his brother’s girlfriend’s birthday party, people ask me how I know the birthday girl and I get to say, “I’m dating her boyfriend’s brother,” I feel like a million bucks. Because I love the feeling of saying, “yeah, that one over there? I’m with him.”

Because I remember life before him. And I remember a time when I was in a really bad relationship. And I remember my childhood friend’s younger sister telling her that she wanted what I had. 

She wanted what I had. 

No she didn’t.

Because I remember that burden of responsibility settling on my heart and I remember thinking that I wouldn’t want her to look at what I had and think it was normal. Or healthy. And certainly not that it was something to aspire to. 

I didn’t want that for her. So I couldn’t accept that for me. 

And for the first time in a long time, I have something that isn’t just acceptable but is actively good. 

I have spent Valentine’s Days with the wrong person. I have spent them alone. And now, I get to spend them with someone I sincerely love. With someone who is honest and kind and fun. 

I promise you deserve that too. You deserve a love you are proud of. One that makes you better. One that helps you grow and one that accepts every part of you right in this moment. 

I promise it’s worth believing in. 

I promise it’s worth waiting for. 

Happy Valentine’s Day.


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