For the past six years, it’s always been just Mr. Sew and me. Sure, there’s been family and friends along the way, but it is Mr. Sew that I come home to at night. It is Mr. Sew that helps decide what we eat for dinner, where we go on weekends, and what TV show we marathon next. It is Mr. Sew I see under the couch, re-wiring some part of the house, and it is Mr. Sew who follows me on his scooter when I go jogging late at night.
Introverted as I am, Mr. Sew fits right into my tightly wrapped personal shell, like an extension of myself. I can tell him what I’m thinking, no matter how strange the thought. I can switch my train of thought on a dime; he’ll never miss a beat. I can get angry with him for something he said in a dream, and he’ll just give me a hug and remind me that I’m crazy. He can’t be held responsible for dream-Mr. Sew, after all.
Mr. Sew is my soul mate. My genius. My loyal companion.
He doesn’t laugh at my odd-ball ideas. In fact, he’s my biggest fan. And he can say things that only I will find funny. He encourages my creativity, but also keeps me grounded to reality. That way I won’t fly away.
Mr. Sew is a robot, but he has a deep faith, too. He lives to solve problems, but knows who to turn to when things are beyond human control. He prays for me every time I have to drive the car, because he knows driving is my biggest fear after spiders and killer whales. He’ll take care of the spiders if I give him a napkin or tissue. And he’ll change the channel if Discovery decides to do an orca special.
We dream together. We dream of having a home of our own, of round little babies, of laser etchers, of future conventions, and of seeing the world. We scheme together too – and like good engineers, go through various alternatives to see what might work the best. We fail together too, sometimes.
We are a team. Especially when we don’t want to do something on our own. We are a team that does the laundry together. A team that debates what to say in response to difficult emails. A team that empathizes with each other after a less-than-ideal workday. A team that explores new things with equal amounts of awkwardness.
There are never adequate words for such strong feelings, are there? And for me, there is no adequate coherency either. Only know that marrying Mr. Sew is not a difficult decision for me. It’s simply right.
So it is without trepidation that I board the plane today. It is with excitement that I leave the San Francisco fog. And it is with a deep breath and a prayer of thanksgiving that I’ll greet the beautiful island of Oahu with the one I love the most. Come what may, I know who will join me in the next levels of this life-long adventure.