I’ve known you for many moons now. Every day spent with you is sheer delight. You are intelligent and witty. You have impeccable timing and delivery, Ms. Comedian-in-the-making. The juxtaposition of your superior logic and your outright barbaric nature when it comes to eating pleases me to no end. You’ve honed yourself to be a weapon, a femme fatale, but psychologically rather than physically.
I know the physical will follow once you figure out what ails you, beautiful woman of mine. Your willpower, diligence, and steadfast characteristics combine into a formidable force of nature. I find myself in awe of you, young lady. Every time I forget that you are a veritable beast, something happens to remind me that you are my end all, be all. You are the love of my life!
I have counted my blessings every day since I first laid eyes on you. It’s incredible, the depth of my emotion and the conviction of my goodwill for you. I want to fill in all your gaps until you’re ready to blossom and grow further. I know you stumbled and fell when you nearly died, spilling out over the edges of your confinement. I hope your second life is more comfortable now that all the stops have been removed, now that you have re-imagined yourself and your future.
Things have been far from easy, yet you never stop to throw a shit fit about it. You just keep going with the flow, letting the current take you where it may. I hope that current never rips you from my arms, my lady, because you are the reason I wake up every day. You are my inspiration, the bounce in my step, the air in my lungs. You are the alpha and the omega of my life.
I miss you every moment that I have to spend away from you. I miss you every moment you enter “auter space” while I’m with you, too, but I understand you need time to develop an understanding of the world all around you. I just hope you’ll start taking me with you when you blast off, destined for great thoughts. I am waiting for you to accept me as part of your world in all dimensions. I’m antsy about it, if I’m to be honest with you, but I have faith we’ll arrive one day soon.
I feel as if I’ve known you my entire life, lovely lady. I wish it was true, I wish you had been in my arms for the past twenty years. I could have told you that I was the happiest man on the planet two decades sooner. I could have smiled with you for an entire lifetime, joking about the literal meaning of things. You could have pulled up a playlist every time I feel insecure about us like you do now. You could be even sillier and look up the top sixty sexiest men and tell me how I look better than each one of them just because they don’t look like me, like you did today.
You make me melt, you know that? And, no, it’s not like ice cream melting. It’s more like ice breaking apart to show the virgin ground beneath. Like the ice was never there to begin with. You make me feel brand new all over again despite everything I’ve gone through and everything else we’ve gone through. J’adore!
I always think about you. It doesn’t matter what I’m doing or where I am, my mind is on you. I feel as if you are imprinted on my soul, even when you raise my ire to levels I think will break me apart. Every time I’m so mad I can’t see straight, you crack a joke of some sort, and I can’t help but laugh and erase all that frustration. I hope that I never hurt you for any reason.
I have violent tendencies, despite everything, my love. It scares me, thinking I could hit you one day, that I might strike you in frustration or fear or anything, really. It’s happened before, ruining everything. I hope you’ll punch me back, or anything, really, to wake me from the violence running through my veins. I don’t even know how it got there… it’s always been a part of me.
I’m scared. I’m scared of losing you because of it. I’m scared of doing anything irreversible, really, even when I don’t mean it. I would rather cut my arms off than strike you even once. I’d rather hurt myself than hurt you. I know you are a fragile flower that only blooms once every seven years, when it rains in the desert of your soul. I missed the last time you were in bloom but I’ll be damned if I miss it this time.
I wish I was the cactus you bloomed atop of. I wish a lot of things, so many things. As you told me once, rather vulgarly, “if you wish in one hand and shit in the other, which one is full faster?” Wishes will never fix it if I can’t manage to stay my impulses, if I can’t manage to stay true to my words, if I can’t manage to show you love.
I know now that to show you love is to subtract hate. It’s not a specific set of words or actions. It’s showing you undeniable proof that I’ve gotten to know you deeply, that I respect you and your collection of preferences, not to mention experiences. It’s showing you that I know what you don’t like more than it is to show you a few things you do like sunk into my little neanderthal brain. The things you do like are vast and numerous, so focusing on the opposite — failing to traipse amongst the things you don’t like — is more important.
As you like to say, “If it’s not love, it’s hate.” Unfortunately, a lot of “love” is actually hatred in disguise. You’ve pinned the tail on the donkey. (I’ll be behind the curtain with your surprise. *wink, wink*) We human beings pretend to love each other, but we only sorta love ourselves and at best tolerate each other.
Instead of subtracting the hatred — judgment, backhanded compliments, slights and insults — we just continue to dish out words that are hatred when considered by the inverse, the void left between the syllables that is open for interpretation. Instead of simply loving on animals, people, situations, and things, we say something lovely just to throw in the word “but”, negating everything uttered before that word. Instead of stopping while the words are still praise, we sneak in negativity to ultimately denigrate the target of our affection. We can’t accept that we deserve to be happy and happiness is merely a choice.
I think you’re the smartest lady in the whole wide world. You figured out how to give love unconditionally. You figured out how to delete the negativity inside your head. I love you so much for teaching me, one baby step at a time. This is why I’ll never leave your side, Crystal, my love: I wouldn’t know how to love or feel loved without you.
You used logic to create a mental map of life, the universe, and everything, and it makes sense. You designed your persona over the past twenty years, taking baby steps to what I’d call perfection, though you insist perfection is a myth. You must be an angel, if there are any out there. You love me, despite all the wrongs I’ve done, just because you are absolutely convinced that I love you. This is so precious; no price tag can be put on this or the feelings it inspires inside of me.
I hope beyond all hope that you will never get bored of me, that you will never be given a reason to walk out of my life. I know if you walk out of my life, you will never come back, no matter how hard I try to bring you back to me. You’ve got absolute boundaries and once you are raped too many times, especially after you plead and beg for it to stop because it hurts you, you will pack up all your toys and go home. I know that so well. That’s what terrifies me most.
What if I lash out in my sleep and hit you? What if I’m too inattentive while driving and we end up in an accident? What if someone better comes along and tries to catch your eye? What if I rape you in the bedroom because I lose sight of your soul, your essence? What if I push your buttons with my chronic lying, which I don’t seem to have full control over? (I’m trying, but let’s not kid ourselves: I haven’t been completely honest in ages.) What if I take a joke or a trolling too far and make you pick up your katana and run me through? What if?
My love, there are so many variables I’ll never be able to control. Sometimes, I believe I am one of them, but you are slowly teaching me that I can take control of myself with the correct amount of perseverance. I am in control of my destiny, too. What I’ve done in the past is nowhere near as important as what I do in the present. I’ve learned that much, finally. It took me a long time, I’ll admit. A lot longer than I care for. I thought for sure I was going to lose you while I was learning that lesson.
You are my future. It looks so bright and beautiful when you smile. When you frown or cut me to the quick with your scathing sarcasm, it looks bleak. And then there is all the time we spend in the middle of these ups and downs, timeless moments that I wish never ended as we grow with each other.
You are the woman I’ve always dreamed of existing. I hope to become the man you’ve always dreamed of existing. I hope I can be the Mountain Dragon Man. I feel equipped to grow that direction since you call me Sir Deli Man already. I am truly touched that you have decided to use an honorific to address me. I find myself elated every time you call me a man. For so long in this lifetime, I’ve been a mere boy to everyone and everything around me, despite living thirty five years already. When does one graduate to manhood?
According to you, Ms. Scordias, it’s when they grow up and accept responsibility for themselves. And then, once they master that, it’s when they grow up and accept responsibility for their spouse (hi), it’s when they grow up to accept responsibility for others, and it’s when they grow up to accept responsibility of The Greater Good(TM).
I know I have a large mountain to climb and conquer to become the Mountain Dragon Man, or the MDM you lovingly refer to that title as. I promise you that I’m working on it every single day, one baby step at a time. I promise you that although I backslide, I’ve come to accept that it’s part of the cycle of growth. I promise you that I’m never going to stop trying to be the MDM. I’ll never stop trying to be your man.
You make me feel so wonderful all the time, even when we’re spitting mad and ready to pick up lightsabers and hack each other to bits. You’re under my skin. You’re part of my brain pattern. I’m trying my hardest to be on your wavelength, the wavelength of logic and sanity that you’ve honed to perfection over your lifetime. It’s a fragile ecosystem of thought, in the end, that can be derailed by one seemingly innocuous action: invalidation.
I’m so proud of you, not to mention in awe of you, for being able to find validation from yourself. For being able to let go of the need for others to validate you and choose your reality for yourself, in your own words. I’m so proud of you for not relying on the shared reality to be the reality just because nobody shares your perspective. I’m so proud of you for recognizing all the hatred in your life and moving away from it so diligently just so you can choose to be happy every day, in every way. I’m in awe of everything you’ve accomplished, my lovely minx, and I know you will accomplish still greater things with your loving hands, your business acumen, your diligence, and your attention to details.
To say I love you is weak. It cannot convey everything inside of me that I feel for you. I wish I could open your crown chakra up and simply dump it all into you, so you could feel the immense emotions that stir underneath my calm exterior. I try to show you in the way I look at you. I certainly hope I succeed, my darling.
May the Force be with you, daughter of Sol.