Love in times of Covid: I love you like the magnolia tree loves the spring.
I love you like the magnolia tree loves the spring. I kiss you like the river kisses the sea. I merge with you the way time makes love to the seasons. My heart beats with yours the way birds soar across the sky and the bee hums in the meadow, and I am at peace in your arms like the daffodil held by the Earth.
Society teaches us that true love either doesn’t exist or it’s unattainable.
We can grasp the concept slightly by indulging in movies like “The Notebook” or “Hope Floats,” and then in our own relationships, we’re told after the first six months of unbridled passion that this gorgeous energy will subside. We are expected to accept the decline in romance, passion, and friendship, as routine and comfort set in—and accept that this is normal.
We collectively accept this is how relationships really are. And that true love that’s practiced every day is just a fairy tale.
But what if I told you that it does exist? This is my true love story.
I met you on a frosty November night, flowers in your hands, waiting nervously for me as I stepped off the train, wearing an elegant red dress, red lipstick, and my white winter coat. Jasmine perfume coiled through my ebony, curly hair in the glacial air.
You, so handsome and so nervous, yet your warm hands gently clasped mine and I instantly felt safe. Time slowed down as my heart quickened.
Our eyes met, and you kissed me sweetly on the cheek while I beamed the brightest smile—you made me blush. Something in your demeanour that felt strong and gentle—your energy, powerful yet sweet natured.
Holding hands tightly in the taxi, desperate to be alone together in your home. I believe it was the holding of hands that made me feel in that moment you were “the one.”
Our palms fit together perfectly, that moment of touch, invoking the bond of friendship, trust, and loyalty. You hadn’t even kissed me on the lips yet and I just knew.
You couldn’t stop staring at me and kept telling me you were speechless and in disbelief that I had chosen you. Darling, I felt the same way.
Over the coming months, we spent countless hours slow dancing to nothing but the sound of laughter, whilst you sang to me, and many mornings of lounging together like lions over breakfast in bed.
Many moments of arms around waists when dishes were being washed or when food was being cooked.
Every day you hold my hand as you whisper to me sweet nothings, how I mean the world to you, and that I bring you peace.
And every evening as I massage your feet, I tell you, “Honey, I love your heart. You make me feel safe.”
What’s so beautiful about our love is that not only does it feel like the stars collide, but time slows down too, and there is an ease with which I feel when around you. There’s no chaos; it’s easygoing; it’s like feeling the warmth of the sun rise when I am around you.
One night I surprised you by filling the room with tea light candles, flower petals, and gifted you a handfasting cord that I had made as a token of how much I adore you, hoping you felt the same so we can use this cord on our wedding day…someday. You told me no woman has ever done something so beautiful for you before, and you cried.
I told you that you are gorgeous when you cry—your beautiful, courageous vulnerability to be emotional and sensitive is so brave in a world that teaches men otherwise.
I love the many afternoons of naked chasing, butt grabbing, giggles, and hot chocolate kisses.
How you look at me so adoringly, so fiercely, as though I’m the most enchanting woman in the world. You tell me I have bewitched you, and I melt in your arms to cherish the sound of your restful heartbeat.
The love notes on the kitchen board, lipstick hearts on the bathroom mirror, roses on the bed, and the hilarious showers together dancing to cheesy music and getting water all over the bathroom floor.
The face licking fights and tickles under the bed sheets, which end in a frenzy of passionate kisses and bodies entwined.
The dancing in the rain and shoulder massages whilst watching Netflix. The thunderstorm cuddles, wrapped up in blankets together, watching the flash of lightning in the sky.
Oh, how I love waking up to your sweet face every morning and noticing whilst we sleep, we somehow end up holding hands like otters. We managed to find each other in this lifetime, like hands finding hands even whilst we dream.
The beauty of this love is that it’s so peaceful and joyful. It’s so easy. You make the space so happy with your exuberant energy and your gregarious lion heart.
Saying “I love you” never gets boring. I enjoy running my fingers through your hair and kissing you multiple times on your forehead just so you feel at peace in my arms.
People say that Gomez and Morticia Addams are “couple goals,” and we steal a cheeky smile at each other, knowing we are the real thing. How you romance me every day with Spanish words, a bite on the neck, and passionate kisses across my arm to reach my lips.
The naughty glances, the cheeky winks, and bottom pinches.
I know this love to be true because it blooms like a flower—so effortless, regardless of storms raging outside of our devotion to each other. You are my sky, and I adore you like the sunflower.
We rarely fight, but when we do, we both end up crying, saying sorry, and sitting together to discuss how we can grow even more.
It’s beautiful how we encourage each other to grow and play and learn. That we both recognise we are two complete beings standing side by side with love.
I’ve recently begun to learn the kalimba and you the cajon. I love that we make sweet, out of tune music together, although I’m not sure our neighbours would agree.
I nearly lost my life to an ectopic pregnancy and you were there, my knight in shining armour, right by my bedside after the operation, tears in your eyes whispering, “I thought I was going to lose you.”
You stayed with me every night for as long as you could, refusing to leave me unless you absolutely had to. I am sure if the nurses allowed, you would have slept on the floor just to watch over me.
And you cared for me every day in the hospital and all the weeks of recovery at home. You are so gentle and compassionate. Kissing my forehead and feeding me soup, helping me take a bath.
Holding me as I cried over our loss. Your hands held me tight like a great protective oak.
Resting your hand on my belly to send me loving energy from your gentle touch.
The love you give soothes the hurt—it soothes my chipped heart.
Both of us are eclectic with our movie, music, and decor tastes—a kaleidoscope for the senses. Our home is full of joy, vibrant colors, and love to share with anyone who walks through the door. A mixture of witchy things, Larp kit, books, and games.
A favourite day was painting the wall banana split yellow—it catches the sunlight and brings more warmth into the space that is expansive and shining bright just like you.
I adore our playful innocence together, like two kids making sandcastles on the beach.
I love that you are patient when my complex thoughts start racing, even when you’re falling asleep and my insomnia kicks in. You hold me close in the comfort of your arms resting against me, and the sound of your breathing sends me into a restful sleep. I’ve never known restful sleep until I met you.
We let each other be free, like two eagles flying side by side—like two jumping spiders dancing on the branch.
Wherever there is you, there is music, dancing, and laughter.
It is an honour to be yours, to experience this great love in this life, in a world so full of chaos and misery at times.
And when moments feel dark, all I need to do is concentrate on you, on your light, on our love.
It’s real…it’s so real and honest and wild and true yet so nourishing, so tender, and tranquil.
This is a love that inspires and gives hope. This is a love that is unconditional, patient, and kind. This is a love that soars high above the clouds and is as deep as the roots of a forest.
This love is true—this kind of love does exist, and I am so lucky you picked me.