SpecialPosted: November 11, 2015
She was special.
She wasn’t perfect, neither was He. He knew and accepted She was appropriately flawed. He was as well. But maybe special meant someone whose flaws somehow matched up with your own. You could both accept and even appreciate the flaws. Maybe the flaws made special even better than perfect.
She was certainly special.
He had never met someone so complicated. Determined, smart, funny, introverted, stubborn. Somehow even the things She saw as Her flaws endeared Her to Him.
It was confusing and made no sense and was…perfect.
He wanted someone strong. Stubborn. Self-directed and self-determined. Even He had to rise to the occasion. He respected Her. He admired Her. He adored Her.
She piloted Her own ship. The most He could hope for with Her was to be at Her side – not directing Her, not “telling” Her, but occasionally advising and encouraging Her on Her voyage.
Partnership not dictatorship.
Monday night they had done the mundane. He sanded discarded furniture She would eventually paint while She walked the infinity of the treadmill. And it was wonderful for both of them. Somehow even the mundane took on a special magic when they were together.
Tuesday night they had navigated together the improving relationship with his son and his growing pains. She advised. She encouraged.
Tuesday He left to return to his ramshackle. He had work to do and tarried a little to long at Suess. But tonight, after they had texted and said their “LYB”‘s, He missed Her. Retiring to His fresh bed, complete with linens he had laundered at Her’s with Her special scent, seemed empty. He wanted to be holding her, feeling her, hearing her occasional half-snore that woke both.
He had spent more nights at Her’s in the last month than at His.
He was encouraged thinking about the weekend, and how they would be together again. He needed once again to savor Her, explore Her, experience Her, truly “see” her. It was His joy.