today i hit my limit
sitting talking to my friends
i realized i just cant keep torturing her.. making her wait and wonder.
i cant keep torturing myself over the unknown.
she is my everything and i must know if she will have me.
and i am anxious to start the next chapter of our lives.. not just mine.
patience is not my strong suit
im still impetuous
but im wiser
stronger
settled
i found a letter
on the kitchen table
my name
in her lovely script..
"Wen
~no opening this until after dinner~"
ENOUGH!!
i went back to work frazzled and left goodbyes for my friends.. saying i need a break. we are overwhelmed. it was time.
and then i came home.
the letter sitting propped up against.. the box.
and the love of my life sitting at the table with a soft hopeful.. searching smile.
once the dogs settle and are headed outdoors.. i turn and she is rushing into my arms.
all smiles and tears and kisses
and i ask her.. worried.. what is wrong.
and she says
nothing. im just.. so happy.
dinner is quick.
the dogs given their treats and happily curled around our feet..
and i take her hand and look into her eyes.
she slips me the letter
and i just sit looking down at it
wondering what is inside
but i cant seem to bring myself to open it..
my hands are
immobile.
she takes it.. opens it and hands it back to me..
her face a mixture of emotions
and i read.
her words.
her heart.
all her hopes.
all her fears.
all the little secrets locked away so tight..
all the things she has said.. and more.. and more..
all the depth of her love for me.. laid out in a beautiful handwritten letter.
for my eyes only.
her heart to mine.
i realize im crying. oh sentimental tears! i look up and she is beaming through tears of her own.
i sweep her up into my arms and carry her upstairs..
we are both in tears.. kissing
i kick open the door to her new little room and flick on the light
i gently set her down on the little chair i had placed in the room..
her eyes open wide.. and her hand flies over her mouth..
more tears
as i fall to my knee before her
reach into my pocket and find the ring i had been toying with all day..
my words a blur as i promise to love her forever
promise to take care of her and care for her
pour my heart out to her
tell her my life is hers
would she have me..?
the gasp
the swoon
the smile
the tears
and finally........................................................YES! oh yes yes yes yes wen.. yessssssssss!!!
she lies sleeping at my side as i type these words. my fiancee. my future.
i love her. and she will have me.
and i will sleep the sleep of a satisfied man tonight.
insatiable.. no more.
Blog Manifesto
Blog Manifesto
This blog is dedicated, as the title would suggest, to the qualities of being young. We are young writers. We are playful and sensitive, fluid and changing. We are unashamed with our art. We wonder at the world, puzzle over the meanings of things and twirl in delight at images and ideas that float by, grabbing at them as they pass. We are curious and constantly inquiring and prying concepts open and taking assumptions apart. We are on the ground, close to the earth. We have bare feet and wiggle our toes into nature. We carry our blankies still and wrap up cozy and comfy with each other and tell ghost stories and shiver at creepy things. We laugh and we cry and we take a lot of naps, drained from our outings and exertions.
We write as gifts to each other, tying them up in ribbon and leaving them around for each other to find, hiding and waiting for the person to wake up and read. Surprise! We weave our stories together to create a bond. One writes, then the other. then another again. We have a shared reality that we have crafted, bit by piece by patch, by string. We write simple, honest authentic things, with our unique voices. You can tell each one of us from the other, without knowing who wrote what. Our voices are clear and gentle and original. We whisper and our personalities roar! Like children, our feelings are strong, our passion for what we write shakes us. We are moved and sometimes left breathless, by our own words or the words of each other. We cannonball into each others spaces. We fall backward into each others writing, like into a pile of leaves or a soft bed. We gobble and grin and ask for more. (footnote kudos to JC)
Then we go to bed, wake up to a new day and do it all over again!