eight years later, or how I grew with those I love

This is about romantic love.  Should you not care for romance, I hope you don’t feel unseen.  Love can be for family, for friends, for self, for so much more…but this is about my romantic loves.

Eight years ago,

I met my first partner to share my journey. We agreed on three weeks, then the summer….then…

Seven years ago,

I made up my mind that I’d actually give this relationship a real shot, no matter how hard it got. That I wouldn’t put an expiration date on it.

Six years ago,

I agreed to be his slave, for ever and always.

Five years ago,

I introduced my master to my family by rolling him into our New Year’s Eve celebration— only myself, my immediate family and my brother’s girlfriend— at my apartment. My longest relationship before that had maxed out two years, and they’d only ever met one of them (to the best of my recollection). (And I still had to actually TELL them, this is my boyfriend, cause they assumed I just invited a good friend over to spend the night with me on New Year’s. My dad had no clue.)

Five years ago,

he introduced me to his immediate family, as well, in time to be formally introduced to his father. He didn’t care that we weren’t married, only that we made his grandchildren happy.

Four and a half years ago,

we took our first selfie on the way to a Fourth of July party. It was so unexpected, I didn’t even recognize what he was doing at first.

Four years ago,

I moved in with my master. We were basically living together after the first two years, but I gave up my own apartment at that point because it didn’t make sense to pay two rents.

Three years ago,

he told me “I love you.” He’d shown it since the first day, but the words came slower. When I’m really down, though, he goes back to using the code phrases he used to say. Because that is the easiest way to cheer me up. Not that I don’t like hearing the three little words.

Two years ago,

I met the rest of my current little polycule—my now girlfriend and my…well…we still haven’t really put a label to it— and the last two or three past years I’ve built friendships with most of the people I am close to in the community.

Just a little over a year ago,

I formally asked my girlfriend to be my girlfriend.

Last weekend,

I stood with my partner and his family while his oldest recognized me as an official part of her family, to her whole family that she brought together. I am not sure I have ever been prouder of a human being. Today, his family told me how happy they were that I am theirs (well, they’ve done so before, but they reiterated today.)  I looked at my partner and I felt loved.  I felt accepted.

And I still have my biggest milestones ahead of me. I may move slowly, but things keep happening!

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