to figure it out with you
I think about love often — what it means, how it feels when it’s not shaped like we expect.
I used to believe love was this grand destination, a moment where everything would click into place and suddenly make sense. But the longer we’re in it, the more I realize love isn’t like that. It’s not something you unlock; it’s something you build — imperfectly, day by day, through the mundane, through the highs and the lows.
We’ve learned together, haven’t we? How love isn’t always gentle, and it’s rarely easy. It’s waking up some days and wondering if we’ve lost ourselves along the way. It’s those moments where we question whether we’re even doing this right, feeling the pressure to measure up to some invisible standard.
But then, it’s also in the small, quiet moments — the times when we sit in silence, comfortable with not having to say anything at all. It’s when we’re vulnerable with each other, showing the sides we’d rather hide, and realizing that even in that rawness, we’re still choosing each other.
Sometimes I think the world tells us that love should be certain, unwavering, and strong all the time. But I’ve come to believe love is much more fragile than that. It wavers, it gets scared, and sometimes, it hides away. But the beauty is in the way we find it again, how we keep showing up for each other, even when things feel broken. We figure it out through the confusion, the miscommunication, and the growing pains. It’s not always pretty — it’s often messy and hard to explain to anyone who’s not in it with us.
We’re not just in love; we’re growing love. It’s a process that asks us to be patient, to lean in when it feels easier to pull away, to communicate when we’d rather stay silent. And there are times when it feels like the ground beneath us is shaky, like we might slip, but we’re learning that it’s okay to not have all the answers right away. Love is a balancing act — one where we have to learn to support each other without losing ourselves.
It’s knowing that some days will feel heavier than others, but we trust that we’ll carry the weight together.
What surprises me the most is how much love is about staying. Not in the way people romanticize staying as a sign of devotion, but in the way that means we choose to stay, even when it’s complicated. We stay because we’re invested in the process, in the growth. We stay because we believe that there’s something worth building, even when we’re unsure of the blueprint. We stay because we care.
And maybe that’s what love truly is: a willingness to grow alongside someone, to figure it out in real-time. Not waiting for some perfect moment to arrive, but appreciating that the imperfect moments are where love lives. It’s in the struggle, the doubt, the laughter, and the long conversations that lead us nowhere but somehow bring us closer. It’s in the moments when we look at each other and know that, even when we don’t have it all figured out, we’re in this together.
In the end, love isn’t the fairytale ending I once imagined. It’s far more complex, and maybe that’s what makes it beautiful. It’s the willingness to keep choosing each other, to grow and stumble through the uncertainty, and to understand that love isn’t just something you find. It’s something you create, together, every single day.
But more than anything, what I’ve come to realize is that it’s you. With your quiet way of calming my chaos. With the way you listen, not just to my words, but to the silences in between. Who makes me feel seen, even when I’m not sure of myself. There’s a strength in you that I rely on more than I can admit.
A steadiness that pulls me back when I drift too far, a gentleness that softens the hard edges I try to hide.
With you, love has become less about what we know and more about what we’re willing to learn. Less about having it all together and more about being willing to fall apart if that’s what it takes to grow. And I think that’s the kind of love I want to keep building with you. A love that’s brave enough to evolve, even when it scares us. A love that doesn’t need to be perfect, but just needs to be honest, raw, and real.
We’re not finished yet, and that’s the best part. There’s still so much to figure out, so much to learn, and I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather be doing this with.
