I vowed to never write anything about romantic love—or at least one that is too literal—reluctant to immortalize people who might leave me one day. That’s how scared I am of commitment.

But I guess writing one is okay. And if you indeed pack your bags and slam the door, I can just delete this file, right?

The thing is, I am now angry for reasons unrelated to you, but then I recall how you put a blanket on me every night when I fell asleep, and it eased my mind for an unknown reason.

And how you patiently guide me to bed when I sleepwalk and talk nonsense. Or hold my hand when I suddenly jump out of bed, urging me to get on sleeping and making sure I am in the right mind. All those tiny gestures ground me, countering this inner turmoil and holding back my desire to flip everything upside down.

Or how you handle the practicalities I overlook, too busy living in my head. From cleaning the house to washing my clothes, grooming the cats to handling those important documents I have zero interest in. And you drive alone to the city and wait for hours for my monthly prescription, the meds I have to take daily to keep my brain in order.

Remember how you were so awkward with hugs? Now you kiss me all over my face and embrace me tightly before work—your warmth lingering all day; it makes me feel secure even in your absence.

I may not say it out loud, but you know to me it’s the small things that matter most and I appreciate them all, don’t you?

I wonder why you keep saying you are not good enough for me when I’m the one defying societal norms and values you hold dear.

Oh, of course, we fight all the time. What else can you expect from two people who walk different paths, guided by different maps?

Tomorrow, we might fight again. Long, exhausting battles therapists say are the main trigger of my anxiety. I’d run my sharp tongue nonstop because you’d stay in the corner, refusing to talk until I’d leave you alone, and you’d come after me, exploding. And I would wonder why we stay together when we are too different, down to our core values.

Funny how it’s always you who keeps pushing my button. Yet when others make me lose control, you become my safe harbor.

But what to do when as much as I hate you, I love you? As much as I love you, I hate you too.

This vicious cycle means nothing to me, seeing how hard you try to make me happy. Past anger and pains subside when I see your efforts to change. Insecurities vanish when I see your patience. And the fact that you don’t grasp my complexities or my glass castle, yet stay—I know you know that your persistence made me fall for you from the start.

There must be an intersection, somewhere, where we meet each other. After all, despite the years we spent arguing and making up, we still ponder what to eat for breakfast every morning, right?

And now, I cannot even imagine seeing my hair turn grey without you by my side, as I wish I could endure everything and see your wrinkles take shape too.