There are these moments where she’s articulating herself, making her points and the world just sort of revolves around her. She has a way of listening to people and using their words to not only validate what they’re saying but to make them realize her point is probably right.
That’s what the world sees, that’s what I see when we’re out there but when the curtains close and the heels come off. When she gets tired of being superwoman I see that part of her too. When she feels like being goofy and dancing around in panties and a tank top. When she wants to lie naked in my arms and just wants to be held, just wants to feel loved and needed and to talk. I see that, I am her Clark Kent, her Superman by just understanding.
She found a gray hair and actually cried. She drank too much wine and couldn’t bounce back like she usually does. We spend a lot more Saturday nights trying new restaurants and finding live music then we do turning up or taking shots. She doesn’t feel beautiful all the time and that’s okay because when she has those moments all she has to do is look in my eyes and she knows. She knows I don’t need her to wear the mask, to be “that” woman. I don’t need her to be on. I just need her to exist here with me right now.
Sitting at the kitchen counter, coffee steaming, fresh bagels on the bar. “Good morning,” she always says it with a smile, looking me in my eyes. Even though we wake up next to each other we never say good morning until we drink our coffee.
I’m sure ten years ago couples read the paper in the morning. I’m on my laptop, she’s on her iPad. Every couple of minutes she sneaks a peek at me and smiles. I sneak a peek at her and she licks out her tongue.
“You stick that tongue out again and you may lose it.” I feel younger when we laugh a lot.
“It all depends on where I lose it to.” Standing up, walking towards me, her robe falling to the floor. That first kiss is everything!
“I love you.”
“I know you do.”