Because he impulsively bought a yellow house with me when we’d only been dating for two months.
Because he loves to prowl around bookstores and drink coffee and watch movies – but that he also digs live music and culture and dancing.
That he likes so much variety in his music and movies; it’s part of what makes him so interesting.
And because he slowly explains Congress stuff to me and pauses West Wing to tell me what’s going on without getting irritated.
Because he cares about the rain forest and treating animals humanely and watches documentaries with me about food and the environment when he’d rather watch a mafia crime movie or boxing.
Because he’ll go to the Bijou with me even though the seats are murderous on him.
That his long slender fingers give me a thrill when I see them.
And because he traces my body under my clothes and that he loves when I wear stretchy pants.
Because he’s beautiful with dark, salty hair and full lips.
Because he buys me sex toys at Castle and brings them home as surprises.
That he asks the wait staff to bring me water with no ice and decaf coffee, and that he knows my drink is a fuzzy navel – and he knows how it’s prepared. (“You’re making that without vodka right?”)
And because he thinks I’m sexy -- though I’m often in denial of it.
Because he believes in me and wants me to live my dreams as artist and writer – or to at least try them on seriously.
Because he doesn’t laugh at me when I’m in earnest, but does when I jump up and down on the couch.
That he seems to have come back to the land of the living and ditched his online game for now.
And because he’s open to trying new things like No Shame and pedicures.
Because he is willing to be One of the Jackai, and that we have other private jokes like Emil the
Tentmaker and “Edwin, the towels are staring at me.”
Because he doesn’t say anything when I sneak butter on the popcorn at the movie theater.
That he kisses me long and soft and lets me sit on his lap.
And because my soul creaks and despairs when I imagine a life without him; and when he feels pain, I can’t breathe.
Because he holds me when I have bad dreams.
Because when I lose my temper and yell at the kids, he doesn’t judge me, but instead asks if he can help.
That he still kisses me on the back of the neck (and the front … and the side) because I love it so much.
And because when I’m feeling open enough and worthy of it, I can feel his pride in me – that’s always there if only I would let it in. (His love feels like that, too.)
Because sometimes I want nothing more than to lie in bed and watch a movie or a LOST episode on Netflix, and there’s such relief and glee when I find out he wants it, too.
Because we laugh together and he isn’t embarrassed by me – mostly.
That he still wants to be with me even after I make horrible errors.
And because I don’t know so many things – but that he wants to learn them all with me. (“It’s all about the journey, Baby!”)
32 minutes ago
