I have taken a lover.
I’ve known them since kindergarten, in fact, it feels like we’ve known one another forever, even in a previous life. We've been circling each other for years, checking in, catching up, but I’ve been attached and unavailable until recently.
Maybe it’s age, experience, or how long we’ve known one another, but my lover is so in tune, in touch, and perceptive that they anticipate my needs and tend to them; so full of warmth and compassion and acceptance that I feel secure and held, even in my worst moments.
My lover is tender and also strong; generous and fun, quirky and playful. They make space for me and take time to listen with a desire to really understand the fullness of me. My lover is trustworthy and full of integrity, the truest friend.
My lover is sexy and sensual, loves to delight and bring me pleasure, knows my body and appreciates every curve, wrinkle, bend, and dimple. They tend to my body with pleasure, skill, and careful attention. They see my beauty and embrace what others may criticize or shame. My lover knows that the scar above my clavicle came from the bike accident in college that hospitalized me. My lover knows about the many more layers of scarring on my knees from years of soccer, then volleyball, trail running and mountain biking, and more recently roller skating. My lover knows that I’m the only one of my siblings with black hair and hazel eyes, which I inherited from my father, but that I’m also the one who looks most like my mother, especially as I age.
My lover and I have fascinating conversations; we giggle and crack each other up, and we can sit in comfortable silence together for hours, even days.
My lover takes exquisite care of me, and signals to me, a secret, wordless communication that only we share, when they sense I’m in danger of abandoning myself or putting myself in harm’s way.
They cheer me on and remind me that I’m capable of so much more than I’m prone to believe, and that even if I accomplished nothing and just existed they’d still choose me and delight in my presence forever.
My lover, of course, is me, and this love is the deepest, truest love I’ve ever experienced..
My daughter is only a hair’s width away and in a category and universe all her own.
She actually gives me butterflies in my belly- you know, that intense-almost-panicked-can’t-believe-love-like-this-is-even-possible-much-less-for-you-kind-of-love?? That’s how I feel with her- not always, but often. We’re five years and some change into our love- more really if you count my visions of her and pregnancy.
I hope I live long enough to know her and love her when she’s 37. I hope we’ll stay up late, night after night on our visits with one another, way later than either of our bodies want to really, just to continue talking and being in each other’s presence by the warmth of the fire, three cups of tea deep, as my mom and I just did these last two weeks.
The well of the heart never runs dry when those who draw from its waters spill their own back in with each encounter.
Jaclyn Edds Konczal | January 2022