Tuesday, February 15, 2011


I don't deserve her.  I try to serve her and (the resultant) us as best I know how.  Most days, that's just making sure I'm available when she is home, and doing the little things that I hope get noticed. But that's not enough some days, those days when work didn't go well. When the commute seemed longer than it ever has before. When the car took it upon itself to wipe out the entire day's earnings. When it's not a beautiful San Diego day to ride the motorcycle on.

But, I look to see where she is.  I whistle as I walk, and sometimes she finds me first.  I'm sure it's partly for her own kicks, and partly just to see if I take notice.  I do.

I don't deserve her, and she doesn't deserve my odd moments either, but I'll keep trying to be better and hoping that she doesn't wake up one day and agree with me.  I need her.  I want her.  I bask in her presence, and await her return as soon as she walks (or skips) away.

She is my beautiful.

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