"Love at the lips was touch As sweet as I could bear; And once that seemed too much; I lived on air"
Musings on love are frikkin' twee and precious. I hate them. But oh, dear reader, that is exactly what follows. What can I say? She makes me better. Smarter, faster, stronger (nehnehnehneh). I haven't been to jail since I've been with her. That may seem like a low bar, but believe me, she's worked at it. She brings me focus, clarity, joy. I have a new family. A new mother; strong, warm, witty. A new father; resourceful, kind, profoundly interesting. A new brother; I enjoy his humor and his welcoming nature. Having been raised in a family of loving smart-asses, I feel that I'll fit in nicely. I've met an array of wonderful people, and have had some amazing fun. So, what do I bring to the party? Dunno, I do a good Sean Connery impersonation! Other than that, not sure. I have snark (in spades), I can hit a man-sized target at a quarter-mile with iron sights, I'm particularly good at escape and evasion. Probably not the ideal qualities in a son/brother-in-law. But, I love her. I want to make her happy. I want to return the joy that she brings me. Not sure that I deserve all this, but desperately happy about it. Anyway, I love her. She loves me. We are profoundly happy together. I think it'll work.
P.S. Sam and Shelly, if you're reading, thank you.
No comments:
Post a Comment