Four Years

We've got crabs.

Today, the day dawning in America right now, is the four year anniversary of when Justin and I first started dating. Though it had been obvious to us both for some time before that we were in a relationship outside of the "platonic" bounds we'd set for ourselves, the seventh of April was the day he asked me, just like I wanted him to, (in a cliche sense of the word) "to be his girl." As short as it all seems looking back from now, it's been a long-- and sometimes very difficult-- road. But, though it honestly took some convincing during my darkest of days, I haven't regretted any of it. We have a long way to go together still, he and I.

When he and I started seeing each other, I was fresh out of another long-term relationship with a boy to whom I will proudly gift the title of "my first love." What my first love and I were and how we became it is another story for another time. Needless to say, he and Justin were close childhood friends and in the aftermath of the breakup and the "rebound," their friendship slowly and quite painfully (for all of us) crumbled to dust.

Outside of forging a new connection with Justin, the last four years have been spent still clinging to that triangle, rebuilding what needed to be saved, forgetting what needed to be erased and trying to remember the important things. The three of us have dwelt (in the physical and emotional sense) in remarkably close proximity and though I can't say the hurt and the pain have been minimal, I'm amazed at how gracefully we've all grown in ourselves and with each other.

So in a way, the last four years haven't been a story about two people, they way that maybe they should have been, but a story about three people. However, over the last two months I've exeperienced a tremendous amount of grace and healing both at the hands of friends and through my own sudden ability to gather outside perspective in retrospect. And after opening my eyes one morning, I knew suddenly and clearly that I wanted, from here on out for this story to be about two only. He and I, together. This is where we came from:

Less than six months after we started dating, I moved four hours away to college. I was sure that was the end of my rebound relationship but somehow we just kept on going. That year and the next, he showed immense faith and fortitude by coming to see me nearly every weekend. I'm sure that his visitations were the source of numerous roomate disputes but his willingness to stay by my side through nearly every walk of my hellish existence Freshman year and my wallowing, Depo-Provera induced depression Sophomore year were proof of true patience.

The spring of Sophomore year and for the whole year after, we lived together. That year of cohabitation was "the best" of so many things in my life to date. Then, after much consideration, I came here, to Tokyo. It was a difficult choice, and one I thought would probably end the relationship. My decision was based on my desire to get away from the two opposing forces in my life and to think... I decided that after three years of being torn, I needed either to let him go or to find a way to let go of the hurt that would not leave me alone.

For a long time, nothing changed here in Tokyo except that I may have become even MORE confused. Even during the last week of his visit here, I broke down crying for having "accomplished nothing." Then, in light of that very difficult night, I started to realize that everything had changed. Then, one morning sometime between before and after he left Tokyo, I woke up and although I was the very same person outside, everything inside my heart was new and different.

It's hard to explain what's changed within me. In fact, I don't think I will even really try. I already know what any nay-sayers are thinking because I have asked these same questions of myself.

"After four years, how can anything really change?"

Well, the truth is, I don't know what exactly is different but I do know that something HUGE has lifted from me and that the change is for good. For reasons that were both masochistic and selfless, I carried a tremendous amout of guilt the last four years. I both nurtured and resisted a relationship that was initially a rebound and grew into something more. Because of where we came from, he and I, and where we were going together, I felt a strong pull toward and against a future together. And having grown accustomed to living with that feeling, being torn in two and tortured, dreaming about my indecision and always loving my partner with one foot in the door, I also well know (by the law of opposites) what it feels like to be free of it all. And now I am sure. Concretely. Absolutely. Undeniably. The poision is gone. What needed to be let go has flown away, drained away and gone away to the regions of dark and light where such things dwell. I am moving on to a life with gratitude, peace and happiness for the two of us.

We have another hard year ahead when I come home to live in Eugene while he studies in Seattle. I don't like long distance relationships but I can do them. In fact, I've been doing them for the last seven years and I think I'm quite skilled. I have enough patience to wait as long as it takes for another chance at the quiet cohabitation we had before. I may have once though a domestic life the end of the road for an adventuresome person such as myself, but I now see that if I'm with the right person, a home base is not a trap but a place to retire after one adventure is over and before the next begins.

Even though, as I said before, I'm ready for this to be a story about two people and not about three as it has been for so long, I want to give a few words to both of my closest friends in order to explain my feelings.

TO ALEX, Thank you for being my closest friend, then and now, and for opening all these infinite doors for me. Thank you for helping guide me to this place and for giving me the chance to walk a road with you beyond where it could have ended in pain. Thank you for listening and for talking. Thank you for your smile. Thank you for the secrets you've shared. Thank you for your patience and your closeness, for those word games and the bond they gave us. Thank you for the distance and time to think. Thank you for your continuing friendship even in the quiet. Thank you for knowing and understanding. Thank you for being there when I finally let go... and thank you, deeply, for still being there and still smiling even after I knew something had changed.

I love you truly and gladly. I am proud to have walked this far with you and I would be happy to keep you close to my heart for the rest of my life.

You are one of the reasons this existence is, for me, truly exceptional.

DEAR JUSTIN, Thank you for being exactly what I wanted all along. Thank you for being strong and sensitive, for having a lovely smile, for needing me to be with you, for being a good cook and giving good back massages, for telling me to stop being ridiculous when I get overly emotional, for helping me with those "tough" indecisions, for singing to me, for reading me stories, for giving good head, for daring to climb mountains, lift weights, run, wrestle and play, for writing bad poetry (sometimes), for listening to me rant and rave, for having your own fashion sense, for understanding that sometimes I need time alone, for letting me be my own woman, for giving really, really great HUGS, for smelling nice even when sweaty, for brushing your teeth before going to bed, for not being afraid to adapt and adopt, for taking good care of Rupert, for accepting my neurosis for cleanliness among other things, for being outgoing enough to make friends with my friends, for giving "us" as many chances as you have and finally, though the list goes on forever, for being patient with me and waiting for this time to come...

I love you. I want to be with you now and always and I will gladly marry you someday, whether that day is tomorrow or in the far off future.

I am glad for the chance to be with you.

Happy Anniversary, Wolf Pup.