Self and Other – To Be In His Arms

I crawl into the bed and tightly wrap the grey, abstract designed duvet around me. I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. I hear his voice from another room in the meticulously cleaned apartment. “Where are you?” he asked excitedly. “Where I always am” I shouted gently. His footsteps keep getting closer as I lay comfortably in his bed. I suddenly feel his right arm slide under my neck and his left arm stretch around my torso.

We start to talk about how our day went. This is the most familiar part of our daily conversation. Even though we babble about the tediousness of work life and student life; we make it a point to discover something new that each day brings. I turn around and face him, while he still has his arms wrapped around me, even tighter than the duvet. I feel peaceful and safe when he holds me close. His big brown eyes staring in my green eyes, he lets out all of his thoughts. I make sure to listen intently as to not miss a single word. Sometimes he just needs me to listen. He isn’t asking for advice or some cliché response, rather an open mind and heart that is willing to hear what he has going on in his mind.

Once he finishes, I continue to be engulfed in long, dark arms. Now it is my turn. I share with him about how my mind is constantly moving; like a toddler who has just learned how to walk for the first time. Battling with Major Depressive Disorder, he doesn’t understand what it is like, but he is also willing to hear what is running through my mind and to accept me regardless of what the mental illness brings to the table. He continues to stare straight into my eyes as I speak, assuring me that he is interested in everything I have to share. I feel at peace again. I can be myself. He can be himself. We lay together for hours in his bed exchanging thoughts, feelings and unconditional love.

Whenever he holds me, I am home. Being in his presence. We could be in his apartment, we could be sitting on a park bench, or be sitting in his car on the top of a hill gazing at the stars at midnight, and it would not matter. I am home, whenever his touch penetrates my being. It doesn’t matter how long or how short. We could be in Canada, we could be in Togo. I can be pink, he can be brown. He can speak French, I can speak English. No matter our differences, home is wherever he holds me.

2 thoughts on “Self and Other – To Be In His Arms

  1. I really enjoyed reading your blog post! It was very vivid and I was able to imagine myself there. I loved when you mentioned being wrapped up tight in your duvet cover because it made me feel the way you felt. I was able to not only see it in my head, but also feel the warmth, comfort, and safety you felt.

    When you mentioned your differences in your last paragraph, I felt that it was a well representation that Canada is very diverse in many aspects. We have two official languages and when you mentioned “He can speak French, I can speak English” it defiantly stood out as part of being Canadian. Do you also know how to speak French? If not, would you like to learn and why? If yes, how long have you been speaking French and when/why did you start?

    Overall, I was able to clearly follow your evening routine and the vivid imagery made reading your blog very enjoyable! Thank you for sharing!

    Jocelyn King


    • Jocelyn,

      I am glad you enjoyed it. I do indeed speak some French. I would not quite say I am bilingual, however. I did take French as a second language certificate through the U of R last fall and was really challenged in the program. I found that it was too intensive and would prefer to have learned french one class at a time, rather than several. I started to learn French in elementary school via core french, but not enough to carry on a conversation. I now have a six year old daughter I had in French Immersion and wanted to learn to be able to communicate with her, as well as being in a relationship with someone whose first language is French.

      Thank you,

      Alicia Klatt


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