Cherished

Yes, another one of those posts where I'm supposed to be working on my chapter, but I'm blogging instead.  Yes, another one of those posts that's about him.

One of the reasons I am super in love and super excited about this guy is that I feel absolutely, positively cherished by him.  Not a day goes by that he doesn't tell me he loves me.  Not a day goes by that he doesn't tell me I'm beautiful.  He loves my hair: straight, wavy, curly, with braids on the side, afroed out, pinned up.  He's always grateful when I make dinner and he washes the dishes afterward.  He tells me all the time how lucky he is to have me.  He tells me all the time how happy I make him.  He tells me that I'm perfect for him. He's written songs for me.  Poetry for me.  He's affectionate.  His gestures are simple and sweet.  A kiss on the hand, on the forehead.  Sunflowers just because.  He is expressive.  He is creative.  He is honest and forthright and consistent.  He whispers, "I'm going to take care of you and keep you safe and warm."  Stroking my cheek, he says, "I just keep falling more and more in love with you."  With his fingers intertwined with mine, "I love to see you smile." This is not fanciful.  This is real.  This is flesh and blood.

I've always wanted this kind of love.  It's a love that is sure, unafraid, unconditional.  It's a love that isn't going anywhere.  It's a love that makes itself known, no guessing, no wondering.  It's honest and bare.  No pretense.  No need to maintain an image to hide insecurities.  It's all in.  It's as if I went out, frantically searching for something, and then, exhausted by my own efforts, realizing they were futile, I went back home.  And that's when I found it.  As if it had always been there, waiting for me.