Saturday, June 13, 2009

I am not afraid of storms for I am learning how to sail my ship. ~Louisa May Alcott

Maybe I'm feeling introspective because it's so late.

I really don't know.

I know this, I'm typing with my eyes closed because it feels beautiful. Letting my fingers run over the keys, knowing which ones I'm touching without feels so right.
I guess that's a lot like a good marriage.

I know my husband.

I know how NOT to look at him if I'm just not in "the mood", because that look will surely get me into trouble. I know that he likes his head rubbed because he wears a hat all day and it's just not the same when you have to rake your fingers through your own hair. I know when we fight, that he's in bed thinking how sorry he is and I'm out here typing away in a frenzy. He's really wishing he could say something, but he's too scared to. Of course, he knows, I'll still make him sweat it out 'till the morning when he can crawl over to me and wait for me to look at him with approval. I know he thinks I'm beautiful, even though I don't. He loves my curves, when I hate them so much. He thinks my goofy faces are funny and cute, not scary. He thinks every man is looking at me and every woman wishes she could be me.

I hope in 10, 20, 30 years, I know a whole new set of things about him. I hope we still have secret dialog. I hope we're still comfortable with silence, sometimes, for an entire day. I hope his tummy still dances when I walk in the room, as he claims it does now.

Mostly, I hope my girls look at us and see. I hope they see two people that really like each other. I hope they see that you can fight, and you can make up. You can be angry, and happy, and sad, and a little boring, and still have a very healthy marriage.

I hope they marry someone just like their Daddy, because nobody else will be good enough.

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