How does love happen? How does anything like this ever happen? How do friendships start? How do two people find one another in the perfect moment of the perfect season when they didn’t even know they needed one another so much because they’d stopped looking entirely?
Peter and I spend a good bit of our time together just kind of incredulous that we’ve found one another. I was waxing eloquent on this love story, talking about how much I love the hope and the friendship, the endless conversation, and how I never thought I’d know this joy again.
I feel rescued and delivered, even after I spent so much time saying I didn’t need to be in relationship with a hero, a rescuer, a deliverer. Turns out, I just didn’t want someone who was driven to rescue me. But, I’m learning that love, by its very nature, rescues.
I said, “I just can’t believe I get to have you.”
Peter said, “Well, maybe it isn’t all about you.”
“Right, of course,” I nodded, feeling a little put in my place. Because it’s perhaps possible that I really kind of thought it was there for just a small moment.