We recently celebrated the ten year anniversary of our meeting. Let me tell you about Nolan.

He’s always listening closely to people and doing little things to help them out. Our teenage friend was talking about having cramps once and he snuck her some chocolate, or he’ll just hear someone mention something they need/could use and he’ll make one for them, or find an extra at home and quietly send it their way.  

He’s not afraid to talk about the sweetness of other men or boys — when asked, he’ll admit he was a sweet one himself. He talks fondly of helping his mom with little things when he was a kid and how much he liked being around her. He’s also always worked on cars with his dad — when we still lived in Oregon and something was acting up he’d drive our toddler over, plunk her down and he and his dad would get to work dissecting the engine. My mom thinks the two of them are the funniest people on Earth (our kids and I agree.) Nolan will make up lengthy ballads on the piano with crazy bravado voice asking them to do something or just croon about Harry Potter. Sometimes he’ll pretend to “eat” water (you’d have to see it) and let it spew all over his dinner, then sheepishly clean it up like what, I had to. Sometimes we can’t believe life is so good. 

He has moral standards that I’ve come to revere. When we first met I regularly said I hated things (mayonnaise, science fiction) and he’d wince gently and be like wow, strong word — I initially found this annoying but now appreciate the way he’s made me conscientious of words and their power. He also isn’t afraid to lovingly challenge friends when they’re doing things like talking shit — I remember not long after he started a job, a new friend was going on about some guy who hadn’t done anything to him, but who he for various reasons didn’t like, and Nolan politely said that it sounded like the man was just doing his thing in life and that respectfully and with all the love, he didn’t want to be a part of gossip. I’ve seen him do this multiple times — whether people are rubbed the wrong way or view this as introducing some new perspective, I appreciate that he believes there’s an energy to things and it’s made me more thoughtful about how I spend mine.

This said — when the man down the street who screams at his kids and wife is friendly to us on his porch, Nolan has a hard time accepting it. Yet he’s also taught me incredibly about empathy, grace and taking things at face value (aka NOT reading into that text. Wait til you’re in person and see what they meant.)  

I love when he expresses himself in written word — he thinks he’s not good at it but it always feels special and genuine. Also the way he looks when loving something might be the definition of true beauty. His eyes focus in this kind of burning-light way as he regards the thing or person with unbridled admiration (he looked at me this way yesterday as I bumbled through the kitchen for salad dressing; looked at our son like this in the morning while he rolled around talking about Minecraft.) 

He’s warm but sometimes oddly formal (like when talking on the phone.) He’s got an easiness with our kids; where I may be struggling to decide a limitation he’ll often simply and seemingly effortlessly discuss with them a new option that somehow makes it all work. He’s the person who will go do something awkward, like help someone he doesn’t know move homes or introduce himself to another unoccupied person in the room or dance with every older woman at the bar because he loves dancing so much. 

We didn’t live together until I was five months pregnant and pregnancy came after knowing each other only nine months, eight of which were spent living in different cities. Early on my best friend Rachel in Berlin asked what the deal was with this guy, what was he like, and I said subtle. The things he notices — plants, a color, a ladling of food, some simple design — are always elegant and impeccable. Yet somehow hard to predict, because they’re not by the book or trendy — they’re heartfelt, and things with quiet soul that make average joes like me’self wonder, how did I not see that? 

He placed his hand on my back at the concert we met at and I felt warmth, love and someone who might heal. 

He loves to dance. How I could wait this long to really tell you is criminal. He went out with folks in the show I worked on last month and when I saw them at the theater the next day, I heard from one end of the room to the other, “That man can cut a rug!” The previous night he’d been out, I sat on our porch and watched him emerge from the darkness, open our gate and collapse happily on the grass. “I danced with so many people!” he sighed. 

Our kids adore him and I know I’m biased, but I think most people do. Every space he enters, every group he’s a part of, is better off because of him. A friend recently told me she realized how much she appreciated him when we all gathered for a holiday and upon entering, he hugged every person in the room. Who does that? she said.

I can’t talk about our relationship without talking about non-monogamy — I’ll say that I often feel it’s brought us closer, and deepened our sense of communication in a relationship I didn’t think needed improving in that. It’s been one of my life’s true honors to be loved by Nolan, and if anyone else finds themselves lucky to receive even a fraction of what he’s given me, I know they and anyone they go on to impact are fortunate and better positioned to spread more good in the world.

Not long ago we were driving to camp at a lake and he said out of nowhere, “My love for you will always be here. Even after I’m gone, it’ll be hanging out somewhere — in the flowers, trees, the air, especially the water.” We both teared up because we don’t want the other to be gone and sometimes I feel like how wonderful he is has an obituary written all over it (know what I mean? How people say the best ones always go?) — but in keeping with his preferred line of thinking, I instantly reminded myself that we’re here, thriving, and to know someone like him is to revel in the now when we are utterly alive,

and together.

I love you Nolan!