All You’ve Ever Wanted Was Someone To Look Up To You, 6 Feet Under Water, I Do
Euphoria. Completeness. Purpose. Joy. Rapture. Perfection. Pleasure. Tenderness. Entirety. Forever.
I feel myself extending so far, but I don’t feel stretched thin. In the room across the hall, John is bathing his four year old, Gillian. She has insisted that the bathwater is too warm, so he’s been making it colder and colder until she told him it was good. Then she told him it felt like a cold hot tub. Earlier we took her to McDonald’s, across the street, and got her a chicken nugget happy meal. She got Glinda The Good Witch as her toy. She was playing around on the bench seat with her toy, chewing a bite from one of her nuggets. She then insisted that she wanted to see the big fish in the fish tank across the restaurant, so I gave her a piggy back ride and showed her the big fish.
And even earlier, she was watching Four Squared on Treehouse, and John and I were curled up on the couch, half asleep, and she came over and climbed on us and gave us both a giant hug. It’s moments like that– moments I thought I’d never live, that I live for. I get such immense satisfaction that my immediate family loves my boyfriend. Of course, it helps that he’s been a close friend to us all (or, rather, to them) for several years. My Mother has apparently been waiting for us to get together for months. I don’t know that I would change anything and hope to have been with him any sooner. Things are great the way they are. Change one thing, change everything.
It amazes me sometimes that there are so many people watching my life from the sidelines, spectators to this great greek tragedy in the making, wondering what the hell I’m doing, why the hell I’m falling for the wrong man. But then, sometimes, just sometimes, I make the right move, and the crowd cheers. I feel the sun shining down on me these days. Everything feels like it burns just that bit brighter, that much more intense. When I watch him, shirtless, bent over a bathtub in his jeans, unaware of my gaze, while he shampoos his daughters hair, I know there’s no one else.
All of the doubt that I’ve expressed previously is gone. There’s no reason for it. Everyone is happy for me. Everyone wants this for me. Even my DAD wants this for me, and my Dad is one of those men who’d have me be 3 until the day I die so he could protect me. I have no reason to be afraid. The past is the past. I won’t look back and hold on to what is dead and gone. The last man who owned my heart taught me some very valuable lessons about love, and about life, and about myself. He was an idealistic fool who didn’t know what he wanted and couldn’t figure reality into his future. I’m very real. My life has been very real. Every breath I take is excited for the next moment to pass. This is what love should feel like…