You're not there yet.

He understands that service is its own reward, that you get so much fulfillment out of caring for him. He knows how to take care of you, how to let you submit to him in all the ways you need. He's strong and wise, decisive and fair. He makes you feel safe and small, like there's nothing he can't handle, and he's given you a space in which all you have to worry about is giving him all you can. You love him so much.

And he deserves it. He cherishes you, nurtures you, teaches you. He helps you to be your best self, emotionally and mentally and physically, and he's as forgiving of your failures as he is strict in his expectation that you'll do better. You want to. His devotion and love for you are so much greater than yours for him, simply because his capacity is so much greater. He's so much more than you. He builds cathedrals, and you get to live in them.

The differential between the two of you feels right in same way a musical harmony feels right. Of course he's your superior. Of course you're dedicated to serving him. He gives you so much, guides you and directs you and makes you laugh and makes you better and makes you feel things so intensely that you're exactly where you belong. With him, at his feet, in your place. You belong. Frisson.

The issue with that differential is that you know, without a doubt, he's getting the short end of the stick. You know you aren't as much as he deserves. Love isn't supposed to be transactional, but when he gives you all the answers you've spent your life searching for and he does it every single day, how can you help feeling like you’re coming up short? You give him your best, the best version of yourself that he's helped you become, and it still isn't enough. How are you supposed to square the inequity?

You know he deserves better, and you're not there yet.

The answer, of course, is to ask him, but you don't want that. Well, no, that isn't strictly true. You want it for him because it means he'll get more of what he deserves, but it scares you. What if he gets tired of always having to give you the answers? You don’t want your love for him to become tedious – that's the opposite of what's you want to do. It's one thing to recognize how he's above you and another to shine a spotlight on it. You don't want to try to balance the scales and end up pushing yourself off of them.

So you go to him, ask him, and you discover: he doesn't mind. He only wants your best effort. He understands your dilemma, but the solution is to have faith in his love for you.

Which is a relief, sure, but it leaves you back where you started. When he makes you feel so amazing and loved and allowed to be yourself, the You you were born to be, what can you do to give him what he deserves? How can you offer him more than yourself?

As is almost always the case, he has the solution: try.

He knows you're fixated on your success – what's the point of serving him if you can't do it well? He knows why it feels like you have to do it yourself, without relying on him, because he shouldn't have to do your job when he has so many of his own. He knows how insufficient you feel, how living up to him is all you want, how giving him what he deserves feels like chasing the horizon: always visible and never closer. He knows it all.

As much as you want to succeed, all he wants you to do is try. He wants to see you make the effort. He doesn't hold you to the ridiculous standards to which you hold yourself, as much as you feel like he should. He sees the size of your shortfall and he doesn't care as long as you do your best. For him. Always, everything for him.

He’s pleased when you try because it means you want this. Every effort is an affirmation of your commitment, a renewed dedication to a future at his feet. As in so many parts of your life with him, the meaning is what matters. The life you'd envisioned before you met him was not this one, if you'd even been able to picture it at all. You've known all along the form it takes isn't what's important. Only what it means.

Like everything else, it means love.

It's a big idea to swallow, I know. You see where I'm coming from, but it would take so much trust and so much love and so much devotion, more than you've ever had in another relationship. Most of all, it would take a singular sort of man, one who could do all the things I've described and more. One who inspires this in you. One worthy of worship.

You’re not there yet. That’s okay.

When you're ready to talk about it, send me a PM.