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The Angel in my Life
7:20 a.m.., Friday, Apr. 20, 2007
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Some mornings when I wake up, I find her watching me. Silently, her eyes shining. She has been awake for awhile. Watching me, while deep in thought.
When I open my eyes, she smiles. Every time. She is glad to see me. Glad to have me in her bed, by her side.
Some times, she wakes me on purpose. To hear my voice.
Sometimes this almost makes me cry.
She listens to the rain too, sometimes, her eyes, relaxed and filled with peace.
And sometimes, when she laughs. I feel strong, and witty; even clever.
When we dance, I always lead. She would have it no other way.
She says sometimes, with stars in her eyes, that I am her world. Her everything. That until we met, she never believed in love at all.
She is shy most times with others, but never with me. Yet, it hasn't stopped her from gushing about my body, or my mind. She tells me I am with her, wherever she goes. And it seems that way because whenever I meet a colleague of hers, they always seem to know me.
And like me.
She'll sing if I ask her, or dance. She'll play me a song on her piano. She'll ask me to dinner, and then take me to the lake. She'll kiss me, and touch my face, and tell me, that nothing she's seen has ever touched her more deeply.
She is more than this woman, more than my wife. She is... truly... my life.
So often it seems, I find myself wondering how this might have come to be. If I've ever done anything that might warrant such devotion. If I might deserve it. When this happens, she tells me it's the other way around, and I wonder how this can possibly be so.
When I stop to think about my first marriage, after I get past the anger, I think it must be, that marriage is supposed to be between two people, that like each other, because love, is pretty easy.
In six years, she's never once raised her voice with me. Never once called me names. Never challenged my word, or my integrity. She's never lied to me, or betrayed me, and has always tried to say yes, to whatever I might request.
And the thing that amazes me even more is, I've been the same with her.
We see no reason for fighting. No need to argue. We clown around and go down town and everyone wishes they could be just like us.
We still hold hands, no matter where we are, or where we might be going. We still kiss under the moon, the sun or everywhere in-between. We still sit close, sometimes at the expense of others.
And when we look at one another, it's always in the most favorable light.
I have no explanation for any of this. I can only assume, that somehow, it is all her doing. Because I know, it can't be mine.