This man gesticulates more emphatically and wildly than I do.
This man has a habit of talking to himself which confuses me. I often inquire, “Should I be listening to what you are saying?” His answer is generally no.
This man sits across from me at the table in his boxers eating pancakes on Sunday mornings.
This man interrupts me to say, “I just love you” while I am going on and on about what a total spazmatron I am.
This man who always likes to be touching me. . . reaching over to run a finger along my cheek or to pull me closer on the couch, entwining his fingers with mine as we walk, or resting his hand on me while we are tangled in sleep.
This man cautions me to feed Finn ice cream slower and when I ask why he says, “brain freeze” in total and complete seriousness with concern in his eyes.
This man that when I catch him staring at me says, “What? I like looking at you.”
This man who loves me not in spite of my quirks and flaws but because he wants to see me whole.
This man insists on carrying anything heavy for me while calling me “a delicate flower” to which I scoff and say, “Are you kidding me?! You’ve met me right?” Then he’ll reply genuinely, “Would you let me take care of you sometimes?”
This man who is so comfortable to be with I find myself rebelling against it just to test its truth.
This man lets me “mock” him about his tie die shirt (oh no he didn’t!), his denim shorts (we are still in heated debate on this), and his inability to trim his nose hairs or his nails in a timely manner.
This man whom my friends welcome with open arms- sharing laughs and smiles and adventures with.
This man that I can (and do) tell everything to. . .even the stuff he probably doesn’t want to know.
This man who breaks me open with his sweet tenderness. Every time.
I’m trying to trust that this kind of good happens (to me) and that we might have a shot at that elusive kind of love. For a girl who told herself a long time ago that it wasn’t possible, I find myself wanting to be convinced otherwise.
“Someday he’ll come along, The man I love/And he’ll be big and strong, The man I love/And when he comes my way/I’ll do my best to make him stay. . .” -The Man I Love, (sung by) Ella Fitzgerald