Well-Lived


hands_smlI know why I spend almost every night alone wishing I could be with Harry.  I know why I jump in the middle of the day and drive to wherever he says to spend 2 hours with him.  I know why I leave my back slider open for him when he comes home from San Diego so he can wake me up in the early morning.  I know why.  Cause when we are together we do two things.  We talk, better, deeper, and richer than I have ever talked with anyone.  And we connect physically better, more naturally, more completely than I’ve ever even imagined in my wildest dreams.  He’s worth it.  Bottom line.

He told me tonight I can’t figure out if I love our friendship more or our love more.  And I chided him saying, “That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

We saw each other for less than two hours tonight.  He took his dinner break and we met at a local restaurant.  I arrived first and waited for him in my car and he was a mess.  Stains on his clothes from coffee being spilt.  Once again I asked him if I could do his laundry.  ME.  ASKED.  Yeah, this has got to be real love.

We talked about everything from Sandy Hook to football and everything in between and then I saw it.  One rogue hair nearly in the middle of his forehead.  If it weren’t for the overhead lighting catching it just right I would have missed it like he had all that time it quietly grew unnoticed.  So fine and blonde it was almost clear, almost undetectable.   I reached up  and captured it between my fingers as he sat wondering if I had lost it.  It was over an inch long.  He is bald.  Bald, bald.  He shaves at least once a day if not twice.  He swatted my hand away trying to get at it to pull it out while I reached for my camera and tried to keep his hand away from his head.  You really can’t blame me.  I just wanted to gaze upon hair on this man’s head even if it WAS all by itself.  It was a first!  And a picture would have been so swell.  “Hell no!”  He protested.  “Why?  It’ll be so close up no one will ever be able to tell it was you!”  It was a riot.

We must have been a spectacle and nearly knocked our table over but I haven’t laughed that hard in weeks.  Maybe even months.  He called me names, said he didn’t like me anymore.  Whatever.  Oh my gosh it was SO worth it.  So funny.  I LOVE this man.

He really doesn’t care what people think about him and that is part of his beauty and part of what makes me feel so safe to be myself too.  Maybe we turned a few heads but we weren’t obnoxious.  Just a little silly for a bit.  And we have a good memory now.

We walked out and the sky was a brilliant  painted display of grays, whites, blues, and pinks.  It’s been raining off and on and arm in arm we talked about how much we loved clouds.  It’s so easy to take it all in with him.

When we got to our cars, I snuck into his so I could give him a proper kiss good-bye.  Even though I didn’t want him to leave, I know he’s excited because he’s started to feel like he’s not insanely behind.  He even said he thinks he’s getting ahead of the curve.  I know it’s taken a lot of discipline and hard work and I’m proud of him.  I just try to soak him up as much as I can while he’s around.  And making out in a car is fun.  Just saying.    I got an email with (for me) a very familiar whistle sound coming from my phone.  I remember when it used to freak me out cause it sounds so realistic.  He jumped.  I started giggling again just like I had earlier.  “Geez I thought someone was whistling at us RIGHT THERE!” He motioned to the window.  I have the best time with him.  It’s just easy.

Best friends who get to kiss.  What could be better?  Nothing.  Nothing is better.  He yelled out his window as I ran to my car that he loved me.  I texted him back when I got home, “I love you too.”  He replied, “I’m so lucky.”

It’s 5:30 pm and he’s off to lala land so he can get up while everyone else sleeps to get more work done.  He keeps saying 2013, 2013.  I have 6-7 hours still left in my day and I will have a smile on my face tonight.

Bottom line is we have this incredible surplus of love and willingness.  It’s overflowing.  Bottom line is this man makes me a better woman.

I’m forced to be patient (sometimes I’m better than other times).  I want to take care of him (cook and do laundry) things I was either in competition for or taken advantage of in other relationships).  I want to love him with purity and honor in a way I don’t even know where it’s coming from because I don’t recognize it.  And yet I can also make fun of that little hair on his head and we can laugh and laugh.  It’s beautiful.

This love we have feels so innocent.  I have never felt manipulated by him.  He has been so honest with me.  Even when he knows I’m not going to like to hear something.  I’m so grateful for that.

You can’t argue with a bottom line.

Last night he asked me to pray for his company and then asked if it was ok that he asked for it.  And I said, “Yes, it’s ok but I will pray that the success you get will ultimately bring glory to God, that He will be able to put it to good use.  And I will pray that for you too.”  And he said, “Okay.”

For me, that is the true bottom line.  Having a purpose beyond personal happiness.

I read a great quote by Eleanor Roosevelt today.  “Happiness is not a goal.  It’s a by-product of a life well-lived.”

The bottom line is not that I want to be happy and because I’m happy with Harry, I want to be with him.  It is that in knowing Harry I feel like I’m living the life I was meant to live and being the me I’m supposed to be.  Everything feels like home when we’re together.  My very atoms are drawn to his and together a sense of purpose is created for our future.  We both sense it.  We don’t know what it means.  But we get it.  Every day it becomes more clear that this is perhaps the exact path we are supposed to be walking.  Toward something beautiful, full, happy, good, and blessed in the best of times and strong, smart, determined, and gracious in the worst of times.

In good times or in bad, in happy times or in sad, we are heading toward a life well-lived.

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