The Way We Are

The Way We Are

Sunday morning coffee conversations are like music that fills the room.
The sweet aroma of freshly ground beans add depth to the familiar melody we enjoy so much.
This is him and I.
This is us, naturally.
This is what you would see if you peek through the window of our little home.

He paces the room and his arms are gesturing to aid the idea he is explaining to me.
His bare feet brushing the white shaggy rug.
He pauses occasionally to tend to our little toddler who is puttering around the living room with her doll in tow.

I am nursing our one month old and listening intently to see the picture he paints.
Being more and more enveloped into his world as he builds the road for me to walk in on.

This exchange of minds is our typical routine.
It’s habitual.
He pulls me into his head.
He is magnetic with his clarity and simple way of putting complexities within my reach.

I have known no one in this life, the way he has let me know him.
To know his mind and to sense its warm familiarity.
He and I are made of the same stuff.
The fibers that weave him are the ones that weave me.
He stretches and magnifies the inner parts of me that he discovers.
He makes me grow.

The romance that cascades from this sort of friendship is immense.
It’s to have the person who intrigues and inspires you also be your home.
It’s more than being understood in the deepest sense.
It is to be seen
and be told that he wants more of you and that you make him more of himself.

To have the most insightfully intelligent person you know be the father of your children.
To see his eyes in your little girl.

It’s not a fleeting infatuation kind of romance.
It’s the kind that makes me struggle to articulate my emotions so that he can be welcomed into another part of me.
Only to realize that he is familiar with the space.

It’s the late night frustrations of seeing his humanity.
It’s the shame that comes from pointing it out and then realizing how hard he works on himself.
It’s the selfish demands for my own happiness
Then seeing how my happiness is all he really wants.
It’s the weight that comes with understanding your lack of gratitude for being married to such a treasure of a man.

This kind of love could not come from two flawed people.
Only a God of ultimate wisdom
Who is the Greatest Artist of souls
Could have paired us so perfectly.

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