Tuesday, August 19, 2014

This morning.

"Love is the what."  ~ Angella L.

You look at me with loyal eyes. Your words to the point and no, not Hallmark worthy but, to me, even better. Quiet and genuine you turn toward me, still half buried under the covers. I am in the doorway, fully dressed for work. Heels clicking across the wooden floors with growing urgency, pausing to kiss your head trying not to wake you, but knowing that I will.

But you never mind.

You look to me, my shoulder leaning against the door frame and my fingers clasped around the knob. "You okay, baby?" you say.

"Yep," I reply. "You?"

"Yeah. Just tired still. Long day yesterday." Your voice is throaty, emphasizing those words.

"Get some rest then. You deserve it. Sorry to wake you."

"It's okay. I'm happy to see my wife."

"And she is happy to see you."

I freeze and get lost in my own thoughts. Our bedroom looking very lived in, consistent with our busy worlds. But still, instead of clutter I see life and suddenly feel intense gratitude. Grateful for you, a man who works hard and gives enough of himself to this life that he should be tired. But never too tired to love. That thought makes me smile.

"You okay, baby?" you ask again because I'm still standing there.

"Yep. Fine. Just fine."

"What's on your mind?"

Instead of answering you, I walk back over to your side of the bed, keys still jingling in my hand. I hug your torso hard and kiss your neck three times in a row. You fish your arm from under the covers to hug me back, strong and like you mean it. I let you, nearly falling down.

Then, as I leave you and softly close the bedroom door behind me, I think of words from a very wise friend that fit this moment perfectly:

Love is the what.


Happy Tuesday.


"Tell me something good. . . tell me that you like it, yeah." ~ Chaka Khan

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