and to all of the people who have shared life with me,
thank you.
* * *
What a beautiful thing to be able to share the mundane of
life with someone. Hey, you can see me sleep and laugh at my snoring. You smile
when there’s flour in my hair and don’t look away when there are tears in my
eyes. You’re unafraid of my ugliness. You see me when I’m exhausted. You’ll
listen to me as I complain about traffic, when I tell you the most boring,
intricate details of my days. I go on and on and somehow, you’re still at the
other end of the phone line. . . listening. Your voice answers mine. You dive
into the messy with me. You’re real with me, and you face real life with me too. Every little part of it.
What a beautiful thing to be able to skip all the details
and get straight to the heart of things with someone. You may live a thousand
miles away, but even with a hundred passing days – mosaics of microscopic
moments – you are able to draw the dark recollections out of me, the times of
oceanic depth, that are more than what they appear to be on the surface. You
don’t need to know what I did yesterday, when I ate, if I showered, what color
the sky was. We don’t need to talk about that because past all of the dimpled details and droning days are roots of deeper
meaning. Let’s go straight to those implications, the true images of life,
the defining, momentous instants. Let’s step back from the threads and look at
what the tapestry says.
You help me to see what really was there in the midst of mundane
yesterday. You step into ordinary with me, but you also dive into profound with
me. You help me to search for what is beyond the surface of life.
And, all I can say is thank you. For stepping in,
sticking with me, constantly picking up where we left off. For hugging me when
I need it, for screwing up just as often as me, for being you, for being real. Most
of all, for choosing to stay.
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