He rescues me in ways he doesn’t even realize. With his warm voice and sweet kisses. Like harmony and honey. I watch the Ferris wheel along the boardwalk spin round and round. A colorful pinwheel surrounded by the scent of pink cotton candy and kettle corn. We are belly laughs and rose gold cheeks. I cannot fully describe this feeling in my stomach. Something like joy and nostalgia and I’m looking at him and realizing he is my future.
You tasted like beer every time you kissed me. The cheap kind, because that’s all we could afford. “I’m going to make you my wife one day.” It’s so easy to make promises of forever when you are so young. But I believed every word, listening to the waves crash in the darkness; a satiation I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. You were terrible for me, but I recall you so beautifully.
I wanted to reach for him. To hold him. To temporarily let him burrow into my brain to let him know I wouldn’t break his heart. That I am not his ex wife. That I will never be his ex wife. But I knew him well. I know when he gets overwhelmed he shuts down. It’s not his most attractive quality, but we all have unattractive qualities, don’t we? It’s about looking past all of that. The bluster and the bullshit.
Fields of lavender in Provence. The blue and gold sparks of the sun and sky. Even that afternoon we got caught in that rainstorm. I took Sean’s hand and ran into the nearest coffee shop. (Two hot chocolates and one donut). I could feel the wholeness of it all. The weight of it all. Sean leaning against me. Me leaning against you. (Love must live here).