in fear, in love.

on approaching love again, with new eyes (and the same nervousness).

hi hi hi <3,

tonight, I’m writing with the window open, a little optimistic with spring’s lingering chill, though savoring the smell of wet dirt wafting in. how are you? tell me about what has been keeping you company. are you enjoying the sun’s longer visits? 

I’ve been enjoying being a little more private about my life, and I still intend to be, but tonight is going to be one of those nights I unknot my thoughts out loud. that familiar tide of joy and fear crash on my heart’s shoreline, my breath hoping to remain steady in the swells of either. I’ve been in a relationship for a few months now; deliciously sweet and slow-paced, built with space for quiet days or long conversations, our anxieties, and creative drives. an easy, stress-free air of “we both want to be so good to the other. we both want to be so good to ourselves.” this love has come with communication skills, trust, and self-awareness that we’ve cultivated through our winding roads here, as well as taking our time to find our groove with each other. what brings you comfort? what worries you? am I overstepping here? yes, I’ll talk to you tomorrow and we’ll take tonight for ourselves. I feel attuned. delighted. able to take a full, restful breath.

I also feel the tangle of old currents pulling, “are you sure you’re prepared to be devastated again?” a spiral of what-ifs. a quote from a poem I wrote years ago lingers, “for me, being in love also means feeling terrified.”

I don’t want the two to be synonymous anymore. in this love, there are two systems at work here, and I know I have separate responsibilities in each. in addition to doing things differently within my relationship, I want to approach love differently in my own thoughts and habits. to wring the cling out of my fingers. find how can I keep my ever-burgeoning sense of self, my frequent love of solitude, despite the familiar comfort in blending into each other. know, above all, I will be okay if I drink this happiness in deeply. I will be okay if the spring dries.

what I have learned so far is this:

• gratefully, I have lost my appeal to the hallmark absolutes. these shallow one-liners are no longer any indicator of romance. in fact, the opposite. give me nuance, give me honesty. my partner and I talk about how love is not as graceful in its greeting card promises. out with the “you stole my heart. I’m yours forever.” and in with, “my heart is my own and I’m happy to share part of it with you. I will be loyal and honest, but also my own. I can’t give you ‘forever,’ and I don’t want yours—but I would love to share as many ‘right nows’ as we choose.” it’s messier, it’s healthier, it’s nuanced, and honestly, communicating this way is endlessly sexier to me. 

• anxiety, wily beast it may be, is something that needs to be looked at in waves. yes, pay attention if it’s coming up more often and explore why that may be, but also, I will not make “final-thoughts” or conclude I’m doomed to ruin everything I touch in moments of high emotion. after a few of these tempests, I’ve come up with a system that’s helped me keep my balance. I feel panic start to rise, observe the desire to isolate or cling, and freeze the oncoming sense of doom: I will not worry about this until I can think clearly again. I will wait this out until I can take a calm breath, then figure out what might be causing these feelings. (if only I had that hindsight through college.)

• after my last relationship ended, one of my best friends gave me the most important, transformative piece of advice that I’ve carried with me to every date since, as well as into this current wonderful relationship, too. “you have to keep the perspective, that even in older age, if there’s only one rocking chair out on your porch, you will still be happy.” to me, this means, yes, if I end up in a long-term relationship that lasts the rest of my life, that will be beautiful and so happy, but I will not allow my happiness to hinge on that image being the only future for me. it has taken me a long time to build this, and I realize it does need maintaining throughout being in a relationship, but I can also picture a life spent by myself, with no lack of joy. keeping both of these doors open is essential.

• though I haven’t felt this habit or insecurity arise in a while, I have done work through therapy and a lot of self-reflection to promise I will never make myself small again. I will be loud sometimes, and goofy always, and other times quiet and in my thoughts. I will have the knowledge, talents, and heart I have without measuring them alongside the word “enough.” should those feelings come up again, I will work to find what tickled those worries, whether in myself or within the relationship. there should be plenty of space within a love for you to both show up as you are, as well as to evolve and change in new interests and styles, as is the nature of things. 

hahah, and now I’ve made love out to be the most serious, grave thing you can do with your heart, when it is something to be delighted in and light. my apologies. <3 of course, there are things I’m still working on that I wanted to include, though I’m not sure I have the right words yet (and no need to rush a good thing.) and I have no doubt this will be a topic I want to pick back up and re-examine often. nervous hearts, as we have them, are just going to take a little bit more practice in adjusting to and maintaining healthy love. but what a joy to be able to talk things out with someone that you trust and wants that same happiness for you both. even if it is with shaky legs, stepping out of the cycle that believes all love, all happiness must end in a crash and burn, must come with grit teeth or a quieter voice. just enjoying, together, the time that passes. being enjoyed, exactly as you are. 

I’m hoping your heart is resting easy. 

with love,
schuyler (sky-ler)
rocking chair fund (venmo): schuylerpeck