Mr. Darcy and I often start sentences to each other with, “I don’t want to freak you out but. . .” and then one of says something that is ripe with future plans involving the other, a sentiment we’ve been carrying around that involves an unspoken happily ever after, a feeling that is simultaneously pure excitement and fear. It’s been three months and many caution that it’s too soon to say such things, to know such things. And yet, all my life people have been saying that when you meet The One, you just know. I’ve rallied against that because in many of my previous relationships I wanted the person I was with to be The One. The thing is, you can’t force someone to be Your Person, and no amount of trying to make them be IT is going to work.
I don’t want to make it sound like Mr. Darcy and I met and everything has been sunshine and roses from that day forth. There has been lots of sunshine and plenty of roses for certain but we’ve also had our share of struggles as we’re learning to be a couple- an us instead of an I. I’m not the easiest person to date. I’m difficult. I’m too structured and completely closed off.* I have a panic button when it comes to intimacy and it’s hard to find the off switch. I’m upfront about all this but I struggle with being a burden, requiring too much effort, letting my neurosis get the better of me. Mr. Darcy is the counterbalance to my spazmatronic ways. He’s steady and self-assured and patient. It’s not that he’s perfect. He’s also an epic worrier, sensitive and internalizes a lot of his feelings. It’s just that he’s perfect for me.
For me love is a verb. It takes action and choice. It takes being all in, showing up, trying and trying some more. If the past three months have shown me anything it is that Mr. Darcy is worth every effort, every growing pain, every compromise. He is worth everything to me.
*Why yes, sometimes I am very much Sally Albright from When Harry Met Sally.