Belong

Tomorrow is a red letter day, at last, a meeting I am highly excited about.

Dave and I will meet with Rob, the minister we've asked to perform the wedding ceremony, in order to begin shaping the proceedings and vows. I am a words person. What's been odd is when I sit down to formulate what I would like to say on the occasion of the wedding, I don't draw a total blank, but I am not quite as facile as is my wont.

What am I promising, and why? How did I come to the conclusion that I would throw in my lot with this one person?

In large part, through much of my life, I've felt like a kid, ever on the verge of sitting down in a school cafeteria. A new kid, a marginal kid, a doesn't quite fit in kid. There's ever the agonizing choice of trying to decide where you might be tolerated, that you are- more or less- a stranger to every table. As an adult I have learned to assess, make a choice, and fake confidence, trusting that comfort may come in time. Have also spent enough time with myself that hey, I can belong with me, and that's okay for a time, too.

But there's nothing quite like the loneliness of knowing there's no place for you.

And there's also nothing like knowing someone is saving the space next to them, just so they can have the pleasure of your company.

Finally meeting Dave, was when I found my place. I'd only ever interacted with him in passing, and I recall thinking he was kind of fun to be around- a novel face at library hours it might be nice to see around more frequently. When we finally ended up sitting together at the cafe one morning, we picked up a conversation as old friends do. And that conversation just kept going. Easy and joyful as breathing.

In the morning we share our coffee, then work together or apart, and at the end of the day, I put my plate down next to his plate, my pillow next to his pillow. Go to sleep pleased that for the next day and the next, that process will repeat.

We are for each other.

He, me, now we. There's a stability in that, yes. It's something I always wanted, but never expected. The fast friend, willing to make room for you in their day and work out an infinite number of compromises, until it's time to pick out the urns.

But now, where is the space for us? The whole that is now more than sum of the parts? Where Dave was once welcome, and Morgan was allowed, is there room for DaveandMorgan?

So back to the entrance of the cafeteria...