We’re playing Scrabble. Love Island is on the TV for the umpteenth consecutive hour. It’s my season of TV programs—the wave of reality dating shows that always air in summer—and I’m soaking it in until the return of football season is upon us. When I met you, I never thought you’d be so invested in the love triangles of random British singles, but I love the ways you engage in my world.

You’re winning Scrabble, as per usual. I always put up a fight but am never a match for your skill. And I’m supposed to be the one who’s better with words. You continue to surprise me.

These last six months have been full of stress and difficulty—an unplanned move, an invasion of poisonous spiders, an ongoing struggle with my mental health, and the loss of two beloved grandparents. I have been on a never-ending journey of emotions. Existing in what feels like an ever-present Eeyore-inspired cloud over my head. Trudging along.

You make sure I eat dinner. Make sure the dog gets a long walk. Make sure I laugh.

I get angry when I lose the game. I’ve always been competitive at card and board games, a quirk I learned from many years of playing cards with my grandma. If you beat me, it’s a personal attack. I will forget all the good things you’ve ever done and fight you tooth and nail over that last point. Maybe I’ll even make up a word or two to gain back some ground in the game. You roll your eyes, but you let me have the points.

We order cookies for delivery because I convince you they will make me feel better. I’m (kind of) right.

You pick up my slack, buy the groceries I forgot, and don’t make me feel bad about the things that slip my mind. You count to four, over and over, as I try to catch my breath after crying. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.

Your takes on the latest Love Island recoupling made me laugh so hard that I cried. The good kind, finally. The days are still tumultuous, and I am cranky ninety-seven percent of the time, but you are patient. You cook dinner another day. You share the many ways you notice I am like my grandmother. You tell me sleep is important. Rest is important.

You remind me that it won’t be like this forever. You remind me of the good. You remind me of the joy that can be found in the midst of pain when we’re just existing, another day, just us.

5 Comments

  1. Chris Gordon

    I love how you give us a glimpse into your beautiful heart, Olivia, and I love your bf’s (am assuming bf)amazing good heart to you. It’s really beautiful!!! Love your articles

    Reply
  2. Linda Harre

    What a beautiful word picture of love and acceptance.

    Reply
  3. Sandy Jurgenson

    I’d say “That’s a keeper!”

    Reply
  4. Sophia Medawar

    So poetic and lovely! This could be about a significant other, parent, roommate, even bestie… I don’t know which and I like not knowing. The love and sweetness transcends knowing the details. BIG love!! <3

    Reply
  5. Yvonne Russell

    I love this. I feel this. I’m happy you found someone who does and is all these things.

    Reply

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