Out of the Woods

by Hannah Bonam-Young

He is my steadfast, easy, contented man. Something solid in a world that constantly seems to shift on its axis.

It’s the cursed roles we’ve been stuck in since the eleventh grade. The gallant knight riding in on his white horse is here to save me once again. And shit, if being the damsel in distress isn’t getting old.

He’s so familiar to me now that I feel myself having to concentrate to truly see him. As if he was a mural passed every morning on the way out the door or the lyrics to a favorite song I’ve sung along to a million times. Beautiful. Special, even. But known.

“Hi,” I whisper, the corner of my mouth resting against his palm. Caleb smiles softly. “Hi, baby. I want to say, before we start, that I love you…and, I’m glad we’re here.”

It’s strange that after many years of predicting his next move and hearing those three words time and time again, that I’m caught off guard. But I realize, upsettingly, that it’s been at least a few months since either of us have said I love you intentionally. We say it every day in routine. When we hang up a call, in the morning as Caleb leaves for work, and before we fall asleep—or, more accurately, before we roll onto our sides in bed to scroll on our phones.

But just because he’s never trying to hurt me doesn’t mean he can’t

Too often we’re guilty of sealing things with a kiss, to move past a moment. In the same way we’ve been saying I love you; a little peck here and there has become routine. I don’t remember the last time we kissed to only kiss. Not for a greeting or to say goodbye or as a precursor to sex.

“I brought it and a solar charger. I didn’t want you to lose your reading streak. Downloaded a couple of extra books too.”

I am a simple creature, at my core. Give me books, sunlight, water, and a handsome man looking at me like I’m some rare jewel, and I’m all set.

“I would climb mountains for the chance to watch you come undone, baby.”

“Often, we can find ourselves playing what-if instead of recognizing what we can do now to build the life we want. The truth is the past is one of the only things as stubborn as us humans. Unfortunately, it won’t change no matter how much you ask it to.”

Visualizing his silence as if it is now a third member of our marriage, sitting between us.

“No,” I say. “I don’t think we have changed…I think that’s the problem.”

“This has always been enough for me, Sarah. You have always been enough. But I guess I know where I stand. I’m not enough for you. Clearly nothing ever will be.”

My marriage

“I feel like I’m in some sort of vise half the time…being pushed on by the past and future.”

“It can sometimes be difficult for me to feel grateful for what I have because I’m thinking about what I’ve lost or what I could lose. I feel directionless, because I don’t really know my own feelings or wants or desires. I just sort of live in some…middle. Not really pleasing myself or performing what is expected of me.”

“A lot of people will say relationships are fifty-fifty, but I think that’s a load of rubbish. We all have seasons and periods where we require more from our partner. The trick to a long, lasting relationship in my professional experience is not getting stuck at a set percentage.”

“When our perceptions begin to shift it is usually because we’re ready for something new.” “But Caleb doesn’t want anything new,” I protest. “And I don’t know how to change when the person I love most wants things to stay the same.”

“If you give me the space to grow, I’ll plant myself next to you. Always.”

“I don’t think I felt you slipping away until it was too late, so I gripped on too tightly, afraid to let you go. Then, after the fundraiser, it felt like you were halfway out the door and I didn’t want to spook you so I kept my distance, trying to figure out how we could best move forward. I spend my days solving problems and compiling data and you feel like the one piece of my life I cannot solve. And, maybe, I should stop trying to. You’re my wife, after all, not a mathematical equation or an algorithm. But just like you turn to prayer when you’re most afraid—I turn to logic. To facts. To what I know to be true. Clearly, that’s not doing me any favors. So, here’s what I know to be true that logic cannot confirm…” He flips the page, then taps at the top left corner of the journal with his forefinger. “I can feel you when I’m alone. I can sense your presence like a second nature and can anticipate your random visits to the office based on some sort of intuition or connection between us. And, when you’re not near, you occupy every corner of my life. Half of my thoughts are about you. All of my dreams involve you. My hopes and fears and purpose revolve around you. I just want you to be at peace. That is all I have ever wanted from the first moment I saw you cry and had the privilege of being the arms you ran to. And, if your future peace means leaving, so be it. But don’t think for a single second you could ever truly leave me. You can go as far as you need to, but you’ll a...

“We have the rest of our lives to fuck each other’s brains out. I’m here to get your heart back first.” He lays his palm over my chest, right above my rapidly beating organ. “I know that your body is always mine but this, this is what I want most.”