You do not complete me

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You do not complete me.

We are not two halves that make a whole. We are two whole beings which have moved independently, and then, toward each other. And you and I, two wholes, have merged, become enmeshed until something greater has formed. We are not simply a puzzle with the last piece satisfyingly clicked into a place. We have now become a force, moving together.

Life has come into, and out of, this simple coupling of two beings who had agreed to love and continue together. Pieces of us have been taken apart, rearranged, and put back together into miniature faces that look vaguely familiar but unlike our own. But the strands of DNA which have been pulled out of our bodies and given to a new life are only a small piece of what has now been created. Overused words such as love and family are not adequate descriptors because we use them blithely without regard for the power implicit in their meaning.

We have created an us.

There is, of course, still a me, and a you, but now there is an us. An invisible thread has painfully, lovingly sewn us, all of us, together into one.

Threads break. They catch and snare; they wear thin when no one is looking. One person holds tight to the end of the line while another slips away, to another life, to another world. But we remain in formation, even as the mold cracks away, choosing to hold tight even when nothing binds us together.

You do not complete me. Together, we complete something more.

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