From only a few words

 Sitting there with tape on my lip, and my mind completely focused on the small package in my hands, my fingers feeling like sausages as I try again and again to get the right fold in place before I tape it down, you smile at me and say I look handsome wrapping presents. I stop momentarily, looking up into your beautiful eyes, smiling your amazing smile, and I know this is what love is. Such a silly little phrase, and yet coming from you it meant so much to me.  I smile and then continue working on the small gift, but inside I am bursting with emotion. My love for you threatens to overflow from your simple words. I want to place the gift on the table, lift you into my arms, and carry you to the bedroom to touch your skin the way your words touched my heart.

 We continue to chat and I finally finish wrapping, and you come to me, and we hold each other, your warm body against my own, our arms wrapped tightly around each other, your head on my shoulder and mine buried in your hair. I feel your lips against my neck, flaring heat wherever they touch my skin. The music on the radio changes to a familiar song, and we sway slowly around as you nuzzle my neck and I sing softly into your ear. You kiss your way up my throat to my chin, and finally my lips as our hands caress and touch each other’s bodies. So soft, so tender, we kiss like a summer breeze, letting that breeze blow across our burning love and setting it ablaze. We pull closer, kiss harder, drawing into each other, needing more of each other as our love song plays in the background.

 The song ends, and we slow, touching softly again, and kissing gently. You touch my face, and I the curve of your neck and your cheek. Taking my face in both your tiny hands, you pull me down and kiss around my face, my lips, my chin, my cheek, my eyes, all around and each kiss is like gasoline on the flame of my heart, sending waves of heat throughout my body. I take your hands in mine, kissing the palm of each before I place them on my chest over my rapidly beating heart as we put our heads together and breathe deeply to calm ourselves. We come together, wrapped in each others’ arms once more, and then we kiss softly before I leave. We could do more, we could let ourselves go completely, give in to our desires, but then I would not be able to leave your side, just as you can never leave my heart.

“It’s not beautiful…”

 Is it so hard to take a compliment? Why is it not beautiful? It is emotional and heartfelt, and what is more beautiful than that? What is beauty then? All these pretty words on special paper, lines of nouns and verbs and punctuation, is that beauty? “The golden flower that blossoms after a long white winter fills the garden with hope.” Is that beautiful? Do you see the flower growing, pushing through the snow to rise triumphantly and call forth spring to the garden. Can you feel the cold of the snow, and the winter chill that fights against that spring? Beauty is not just the way things are written, or which words are used. It is the feeling, the meaning behind the words that makes them glow. Beauty is not what you see, but what you feel.

 Just like it is not physical appearance that makes a person beautiful. It is not the legs, the ass, the stomach, the chest or breasts, or even the face that makes someone a beautiful person. You are beautiful because when I hold you, I feel like a giant holding a small and fragile child. Then I look into your eyes and I am the child, weak and timid and seeing only comfort there in your eyes. You are beautiful because who you are brings joy and warmth to my life. You are beautiful because when I close my eyes at night I do not just see you, I feel you there with me and we are holding each other close. It is not your body that I miss on those nights, but everything within you that calls to me.

 I do cherish your body but I also respect your mind, have faith in your strength and determination, and love your caring heart. You are more beautiful than you could ever imagine, and one day I hope you will see that. And maybe when you read your words again in a week, or a month, or 5 years from now, you will see the beauty in it as well.

Simple

 The simplest things can bring joy when you are with the right person. Talking and smiling as you walk from aisle to aisle in the store, comparing prices and getting in each other’s way; or sitting together on the kitchen floor, cleaning out the fridge and putting groceries away can be an adventure. Sitting down and eating can be a special treat with someone you truly care about. Watching them fix their hair, or brush their teeth, do the dishes, or sit on the computer can be its own entertainment.

 There is magic in every motion, every touch, even in the way they sit still, or cannot seem to, that brings a smile to your lips and warmth to your heart. Because it is every little thing they do that makes them the one you love and to enjoy and cherish each moment is to cherish them. So remember those simple things, watch for them, and when you see the simple things smile, because that someone is watching you too and enjoying each simple thing about you.

Beautiful Night

 The house is quiet when I come in carrying my contribution to the evening, a bottle of wine and a Tupperware bowl. I set them on the table as you greet me with a kiss, and then another as our hands wrap around each other. We hold a moment, talking softly into each other’s ear. Then we separate, I take the wine into the kitchen and open it, showing my complete lack of skill with a bottle opener, while you retrieve glasses. Then I open the Tupperware to reveal the fruit I managed to cut without losing a finger, and remove the container of chocolate caramel dip from my coat pocket. We get plates and forks, and you regale me with the story of your favorite fork. When you go to heat the caramel I follow, wrapping my arms around you as you stand before the microwave. I feel very much the teenage lovestruck fool, but I don’t care as I hold you against my chest until the beep brings us back to the present.

 We sit down at the table, our little dessert set before us. I pour the wine as we talk, going over the events of the day, the good and the bad. We talk, and nibble our fruit, and sip our wine. It’s not that bad, we decide. You’re contemplative, thinking about important things, and I’m fine with that. I simply sit beside you, my hand gliding up and down your arm as I sip the wine. It is quiet, and simple. It is an everyday kind of feeling. It is exactly how I thought being with you would feel.

 We move to the couch and watch a show as you lay in my lap and I caress your face and neck. I am more interested in the shape of your jaw and the curve of your throat then what is on tv, smiling each time you shiver at my touch. At each commercial you turn to me, and I allow my hands to move along your face, your arms, your stomach, touching gently here and there. Then the show comes back on and we continue to watch while I touch you softly. When the show finishes, we lie together on the couch and just hold each other, dozing softly. You comment on the speed of my heart beat, and I say something corny, and you smile without opening your eyes. We drift off to sleep together.

 We awaken a few hours later, and we rise and hold each other, kissing softly. It’s time for me to go, and time for you to crawl into your comfortable bed. I want to crawl into that bed with you instead of leaving you. We kiss once more, and hold on for a bit longer, and then I turn and walk into the night air. But before I leave we makes plans for the next time we’ll see each other, and as I lay down in my bed, I think of you laying in yours, and of the beautiful night, and knowing there are more to come. A promise of tomorrow is a wonderful ending for this night.

Pictures

 Thousands of little moments captured in a flash. Happy times, sad times, good times and hard times, all kept forever to be revisited at will. They hold with them emotions and memories, they can bring back the past...

 Looking at the picture you see a smiling man and smiling children, a happy father and his kids. I see the tea cups on the floor where my baby girl and I had tea with the other princesses on her little pink mat. I see the little monster truck that my son drove through our tea party with and we had to chase him away. When I stand to go, they grab my legs and I drag them across the wood floor, laughing and giggling all the way. Up the hallway to get my push up bars and down again to the living room, my son sliding off slightly (he's getting to big to be riding on dads leg).

 I try to work out a little, and end up working out a lot as first my baby, then my big boy climb onto my back and laugh as I go up and down on the push up bars. The picture is taken FLASH when I am in the up position and both kids are laughing and so happy. I do a few more, then a few with each child separately before I can't anymore. Then I roll over and grab my two wonderful kids and tickle them to stop them asking "again, again!!" I lift up my girl and we dance, and my son climbs on the couch and jumps up so that I am holding them both, one in each arm, and spinning around slowly while I sway back and forth. I spin a little faster and they laugh and yell, and then we all fall onto the couch smiling and laughing as they say "again, again!!" and I catch my breath.

 All that from a single picture, a single flash, a single moment captured in time. Looking at it now, with my kids so far away, I remember the happiness in the moment and see the smiling faces, and I can't stop the tears.

Rambling song

There is a song out about a rambler; the song is called Colder Weather. It’s a very good song and if you haven’t heard it you should. When it’s on I know most of the words, and it has been stuck in my head more than a time or two. It is slightly melancholy, talking about wanting to see someone but not being able to. The song is beautiful, but I am saddened by it. It touches me closely because I’ve always felt like a rambler, lost in the wrong time, just travelling through. The chorus goes:

He said I wanna see you again but I'm stuck in colder weather
Maybe tomorrow will be better, can I call you then?
She said you're a ramblin man,
You ain't ever gonna change
You've got a gypsy soul to blame,
And you were born for leavin'
Born for leavin'

I’m not leaving, I’m not going anywhere. But deep down it feels like I’m still rambling. I know I’m moving towards something amazing. I’m heading home, where I belong. But I’m not there yet, and that is what saddens me. There is still a long road ahead before I can stop rambling, before I can finally be home, with the ones I love all together. And I can’t wait till then…:

When I close my eyes I see you,
No matter where I am
I can smell your perfume through these whisperin' pines

I'm with your ghost again,
It's a shame about the weather,
I know soon we'll be together
And I can't wait till then
I can't wait till then

Not going to fall

 I have that feeling sometimes, like we're heading toward a pitfall. I want you to know that I hear you, that I am listening, that what you have to say means so much to me. I see the fire in your words. I see that you are trying to get through to me, past the fog clouding my mind when it comes to this. I can’t help but smile, not because I am making light of what you have to say or the situation, but because you care so much about it, about me. I’ve never felt so cared for, so loved. You can be angry at me, its okay. You can tell me off and raise your voice and shout and scream. I want to know how you feel and what you think. Don’t hold back. When it is all said and done we will still be together. I see the pitfall coming, and we will find a way around it. And if the floor should fall out from under us, we’ll float.

childish fear

 A frightened child is a heart wrenching thing. All you want to do is hold them and tell them that everything is going to be ok, to soothe their fears away and make things right. What if you can’t?

 What if it's your child and the thing they are afraid of is you. Imagine a long dark hallway, a deep, deep green on the walls, almost black in the near dark. Your child stands in that hall, their arms up in front of their small bodies, looking as though they want to just crawl into the fetal position. Their lips are turned down in a mask of sadness, and their eyes are filled with tears that have yet to fall. You step toward them, and they step away. Their face the same, their body a statue save for the movement of their feet keeping away from you.

 You step again, and again they go back. You try to call to them, to beckon them to you so that you can take care of them, but only shouting comes out. Like a radio broadcasting some horrible story on the news on its highest volume, the words come screaming from your open mouth. The tears begin to slide down their cheeks. You try again, closing and opening, closing and opening, but always the yelling and the shouting come out. They are crying now, still just as far away as before. You close your mouth. You walk toward them, but always they move back. You speed up, and somehow their small legs match your pace.

 You run now, chasing after them, your hearts pounding like war drums as you push to catch them. But the gap never lessens. The distance is never shorter. You stop finally, red faced from exertion, breathing heavily, slightly stooped, and trying to catch your breath. Your child has stopped crying, they just stare at you as if seeing something they've been afraid of their whole lives. Then they just turn and run down the hall, and they are gone, swallowed up by the darkness.

 And then you see yourself, As if an image were projected in front of you. the red and angry face, the stooped posture and heaving breaths, the sound of shouting still coming from your open mouth. You see it all from a height of only a few feet off the ground, the height of a child, perhaps. You see the monster you must surely appear to be to them.

 And then you wake up. Your chest is heaving, your hands are clenched and wrapped around you, and your pillow and face are wet. What do you do? You get up, you get dressed, and you go to work, and change the radio station every time any song of children comes on…