My little heart beats with a few more gems in its chest than last week. The snip-it i wrote a few days ago, I passed along to Him. He said it was sweet and I could help but cry as he read it. I could feel him looking at a little piece of my soul.
I'd call my feeling drunk, but its too deep. I've plunged deep into the beautiful coral ocean, watching in glee as the fish pass me by as I ride on the back of a turtle.
I've gotten a sudden rush of tired since writing this, but I can't seem to shake my good mood! Five days of keeping me busy until Friday comes.
Things are changing. For the good, for my good. I can't forget that there is a third person in this and I feel bad. I do in my heart, because I was on the other side of this. But that's life. I'm not in this to sit back and run from something that feels right in me.
It starts on a Saturday. I made it to his house, roasting from the up hill walk in sunny rain, music-less with a full backpack of treats. I've been eating chocolate and biscuits from his place the last two weekends and it makes me guilty that I take it. So I brought a bar of half eaten chocolate (because I'm weak and like sweet things), art from the week and a the little note. We share a cuppa, with the treat and he says he likes my drawings, that I'm getting better, especially with my dragon, but as always, he likes my people best.
We go through his computer and I show him some pictures he's not seen off my camera. Then he decides he's hungry, and we split with he getting the big portion and me the little one, because I wasn't so hungry. Poutin again, with peppers, mushrooms, bacon, sausage and fries. It was magnificent and I promised him that I would make my best chicken noodle soup next time.
To go with out meal, we watched Gangs of New York. He loves his Scorsese films and I watching new movies (for me) with him. I think he's seen nearly everything else. Instead of going straight to his chair he sits down beside me right away and once food is done, we lay the dishes on the floor and he puts his arm around me and holds me close.
We talk about some big things. We talk about how his feeling not to sleep with her grew since the previous week. He talked about them almost having a fight. How he asked her if they should call it quiets, and hoped she would say yes. Almost again. He laid out the chance of what would happen when they did break up. That it would be before she was gone. And she's leaving, and he doesn't want to go. He's gotten an interview for a job.
He'd be good at it. Taking care of kids.
We talked about it all, and he played with the little gold ring on my finger. There were lots of laughs, and tickles and hugs. And cuddles. You love cuddles, I can see it in your eyes and feel it in the way you hold me close. The way you look at me when, just for a second your at peace. I know the feather of thought is not far from tickling you and I take full advantage of the warmth and worry free look. You tell me I'm the girl you've been looking for years. You tell me I'm beautiful, and ask why I would like an old man like you.
Because I do. Because you're not old. Your a man, in the truest way I see, both physically and mentally.You're you! Your truth honesty and humbleness breathe joy, pride and a comfort I've never known with anyone. You're handsome. When I see you, it lights a fire in my belly, that never really goes out. And I don't mind your odd behavior its the thing I truly love. If you were an ice cream flavour, you would be my favourite one...Believe me when I say, its not about your scars, its all about your heart.
I did have to go home eventually. You promise me to text and see me the next day. Sweet words were said and lots of sorrys passed between the two of us. One day. One day.
I didn't leave feeling bad. I left with a little more hope than usual. I read once, somewhere that you should hope, but not expect. It is expectations that make us feel bad, and yet a can't help that faint hopes grow brighter. I'll take it. My heart has been weary to long to not let it shine a little brighter when it can. It was slower for me, and I was fighting it too. Your an amazing person. I see how it is now, how I was and the connections I was not seeing because I was not paying attention.
But I remember, I'm coming back. the day I met you, the night after we first met, I decided I was coming back. I was to happy and something fit here. It was you. It was you of course.
I slept with a warm blanket and a smile at the corner of my mouth.
Sunday started with the bowling alley.
It was DS's birthday and we all went bowling. I was in a good mode from the day before. The conversation, the play and the good. We're good. We go easy on the eyes, on holding each other's gaze in fleeting, unnoticed moments. A pint together, something we now share in moderation and I quell my fears. They're few and I see them before the take me over as a wave. We're good and at the end of the night I'm awarded by a warm hug, deep and bearded cheek pressed against mine. I hung from the window and he said it reminded him of Romeo and Juliet. I waved to him good bye and wish I could just kiss you under the starry sky, the way you used to kiss me. The kind of kiss that would let lose a cage of butterflies.
Monday
I feel bad, a bit, for not giving you a deep and proper good-bye hug. I was in such a doped up mood and being so careful, I forgot that I have a whole week to wait. Its not so bad though. I have the hugs, the holding and it will last me. I just no to keep myself busy. Busy.
You had a cuppa tea at the hostel and after the boys were done with the Henry, we played football for an hour before you grabbed a snack and headed out. It was such a good day. It was such a good weekend.
Yet even when I am atop a hillside, writing, or trying to create a work art, you won't be far from my mind.
My greatest friend.
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