The Feeling of Love

When I first met my husband, I couldn’t remember what he looked like the next day. Even after several dates, when we would meet, I was always surprised by his appearance. There is nothing wrong with my husband’s looks; I kept forgetting what he looked like because for the first time, my heart served as my eyes. My vision of what is true and good is much better this way. I should have used this technique a long time ago-I could have saved myself a lot of trouble trying to make the ugly pretty.


The night we first met, there was a hum and a pulse that slowly moved us through space towards each other. I didn’t notice. I was still seeing with my eyes. In blurry moments of rich darkness and laughter, we were together, alone, in a crowd. The hot night air wrapped the two of us up tightly. The hum and the pulse smothered the noise from the outside world. I remember his laugh tickling my ear, the gentle touch of his hand on the small of my back, the feeling of the night air on my skin as it drew us together. The world faded away. I could almost see the light connecting our hearts and pulling us together. Not a rope of light or an extra-terrestrial beam of light jetting out from our bellies, but a glow and a hum that is silent and invisible, blinding and deafening. Encapsulating us. Protecting us. When I think of my husband, I don’t see a body or a paycheck, labels, skills or scenes…I see the light and the hum-it draws me in, wraps me up, and keeps me safe.

He is the warm breath on the nape of my neck- the open, relaxed lips and brush of the nose right before a kiss-the eyes that I fall into and hope to get lost in forever. He is the nook of his neck where my head fits perfectly and I lay contently, breathing in the sweet fragrance of soap and shaving cream. He is the arms that wrap around me to block out the world and squeeze out my demons, keeping me safe from even myself. He is my harbor, my home, my life, my light, my redemption, my salvation, my love. I am me. He is him. Stripped down. Honest. Naked. Whole. Complete. Perfectly Imperfect.

I see him best when we are together, tangled and melted into one, eyes closed, breathing each other, with no beginning and no end. With every breath, we melt deeper into each other, into the universe, into ourselves. We are limp with light and warmth- like napping in warm sand. Our love rushes in and settles like a tidal pool, warm and safe and playfully inviting. This is what love looks like feels like to me.