Some part of me was expecting to have a crisis over having gotten married.  You know, to some guy I’ve known less than a year and only actually spent less than 3 weeks with.  I sort of figured that after he left there would be a kind of emotional reckoning, wherein I would go “omg wtf did I do did I seriously get married was this a good idea what the hell was I thinking???”  I expected that and I wasn’t going to begrudge it, sort of a natural process, all things considered.  Instead, I’ve found that I feel like someone flipped a switch in my brain.  And, no bullshit, it’s something I’ve never felt before.

I’ve been in love before…not often, but once or twice.  I’ve had passionate love, deep love, obsessive love.  What I have never had is comfortable love.  Mark and I might have had that if we had both been older when we got together, perhaps, but while I loved him unlike I ever had loved anyone, I was never really settled in.  I totally adored and respected him, but a part of me chafed and rebelled and wondered what else was out there.  Either there was a mismatch (no, actually looking back on our sex life there was a definite mismatch) or we were just too young for it.  Maybe a bit of both.  Whatever the cause, it kept me from ever really feeling 100% there.  This time around, with James, is the first time where I’ve ever just felt completely okay with the idea of just being with him from that point forward.  That probably sounds like not that big a deal to most people, but coming from me, it is.  Bigtime.

Maybe that’s what really being in love is supposed to be like.  Maybe it’s not about the whirlwind romance and the intensity and the drunken sobbing and LJ entries. Maybe it’s as simple as that subtle background *click* that says “I’m done.”  And then the drunken sobbing and LJ entries.

It’s odd and wonderful.  I’m inordinately proud of everything that he does.  I’m completely aware of all his flaws and he gets shit for them but I honestly don’t really care about anything outside how he is with me, here and now.  I think about his broad back and impossibly wide shoulders and I get a shiver that starts at the back of my neck and ends in places the Bible pretends don’t exist.  I quite literally have not fantasized about anyone else since we got together, and that is WEIRD.  I remember his unwavering, frank gaze when he looked in my eyes and asked me to marry him.  And it all sums up to a simple “I’m done”.  There’s no more poetic way to put it than that.  Unless he does something incredibly fucking stupid and ruins everything, that boy has me for life.

It’s a mixture of a bunch of things.  First is that I’ve always been incredibly sexually attracted to him, even back when I didn’t know him and  thought he was a mildly retarded psychopath.  When I first saw pictures of him I was like DAMNNNNN, and that synced up perfectly into our intimate interactions.  Then there’s the fact that he just completely adores me and loves me to the exclusion of all else.  Then there’s the fact that we compliment each other so well.  He is physical force and organization and planning and goal driven action.  I’m mental agility and chaos and intuition and mutable fire.  In nerdspeak, he’s a tank and I’m a rogue.  He doesn’t try to match wits with me any more than I’d try to armwrestle him, and we’re both completely okay with that.  We don’t compete.  Normally, 2 alphas cannot help but compete, but we fit together like puzzle pieces.  Master and Blaster.  Caramon and Raistlin.  Simon and Garfunkel.  It just works.  And omg, god help anyone who pisses the both of us off…I seriously think that there would be no safe place on earth for someone that we both took a negative shine to.  We are, quintessentially, a team.  Team Young.  Team Amarantine.  Team FUCK YEAH.

And being that we’re both such tough guys, it says a lot that we act like squealing teenage girls around each other.  No pride at all, no problems crying around each other, and no dickwaving except on nights and weekends.  I dig, but don’t personally understand, the stuff he’s into.  Likewise with him, he’s fascinated by my interests but they are not his.  When the Zombie Apocalypse hits, between the two of us we’ll be able to scale cliffs, kick in doors, plan an ambush, hack a terminal (Fallout, how I miss thee), patch a wound, treat an infection, snipe enemies from afar, deliver a silent blade to the liver up close and personal, start a fire, track and hunt and improvise.  That’s how I see us..an unstoppable combined force.  And then there’s all the gooey love junk, too.

Plus, the BATTLE SLED.  (if you’re confused, read down my FB wall a ways)

We both have old hurts to overcome and we are both covered with scars, mental physical and emotional.  Neither of us minds this, and we both accept it in the other.  And I take a certain girlish pleasure in knowing that he would keep me safe, no matter what.  He’s got my back no matter what and I am his #1 priority.

Honestly, I couldn’t ask for much more in a man.  So yeah…no crisis.  Just a frustration that I can’t be with him now.  But come October begins the rest of my life, and for once, I am looking forward to the future with everything I’ve got.

Sorry for the lovey positive update…but it’s true.  I’ll get back to hating later.  :P