soapboxdiner

Love

Funny. (And isn't everything funny?)

Yesterday I turned 37 (or is it 38? The math of OLD kills me and honestly, it doesn't really matter anyway).

D00d bought me an eisel, some acrylics, FOUR canvasses, and walked hand-in-hand with me down to the library to check out a book of inspiration. "I know someone who painted a picture on her wall," he said, "and I think she's more creative than she knows."

What's funny about that is four years ago, I was with Mr. T and all he'd ever say about my dreams or talents or even my interests was that mine weren't as good or as important as his. "You don't have my talent, so you shouldn't even try."

Funny, because for 15 years I've been a woman who has told herself, "I'll be damned if I will let another person on this planet ever again tell me I'm not good enough." And I've lived by that as a kind of motto and mantra that I've dug my fingernails into like a cat on a cliff. No one -- NO ONE -- tells me I can't do something. No one tells me I'm anything less than the best whole thing on the planet.

Why? Because frankly, no one is qualified to place judgment on anyone besides themselves. Live for your damn self. Make your own destiny and don't ever allow some unqualified person tear you down. Just don't. They aren't any better than you, and they don't know your struggles or your triumphs. They don't live your journey. Just keep on keepin' on, fucker. Just fucking DO IT. Live your journey and as long as you keep on trying, keep on growing, keep on getting better, you're doing what you're here to do, so believe THAT, and live THAT. Do THAT.

Cheesy and just little bit pukey on the inside, huh? Oh, well. That's my goal for my life. That's my journey, and there it is. That's me -- pukey on the inside, kick you in the ass for being a fucker on the outside.

It's just a little funny to me, because it's always been just me. Having another person there in the stands hasn't ever been a part of my reality, you know? I've always had to be tough because there's not ever really been someone else there to bear a portion of the weight.

I don't know if I'm expressing the gratitude-sans-cheese that I'm meaning. Suffice it to say, I feel such a wonderful, encompassing sense of gratitude and appreciation that now at 37 (or is it 38?), someone is there encouraging me, rather than imposing artificial and completely needless limitations on me or my creativity, you know?

Weird, and wonderful. I can paint if I want to, and there's no one else I need to be compared to. I'm not better or worse than anyone else. I'm just me, and he is there encouraging me and loving me for expressing ME.

Amazing. I've never had that in my life before.

Equally funny, because the other day in the throes of the tender and wonderful gift of bringing him joy, I looked up and asked, "When are we going to get married?"

(How is that for timing?)

"Eleven point eight months," he said. You know, when he pays his last mortgage payment.

"Don't put a price tag on our love," I said.

And the rest of that conversation is a haze. Love is love and pleasure is pleasure and giving a gift that you both enjoy is satisfaction in itself, so live the moment without regret or jealousy.

And the next morning I woke up early and went out to feel the sunrise and the morning mist lift alone. And when the coffee was brewed and the birds began their chirping, I walked back into the house. I walked down the hall and heard the shower. And in this very office, my sister-in-law was on my computer taking an online college exam. "Dood's in the shower," she said, "He just came out of your room and asked me where his wife was."

Funny, because he gives me everything I want. He undoubtedly shows me more love than I have ever known. But in a club or in our room, he won't say the one thing I want to hear.

But I suppose the actions speak louder than the words. I should be content -- I am happy.

7:39 pm - 04.19.10
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