A year ago, past now, I left my begin again. The dreams that I had carefully packed into a suitcase with wispy bits of chiffon and high heels. A cafe on a Wednesday in an airport, with red lipstick and nerves, I believed the lies and excused the lack of passion. I thought maybe finally a girl like me could become a woman with a man like him. I painted the walls and but paint could never hide the bruises. I burned myself down to the bits of ash best left for the bin. I had never wished for something so hard or been so disappointed.
~Thursday night with glasses of champagne I sat on Sully’s deck. He reached across to me taking my hand and said.. “Let’s take the next steps baby, no safety valves. All in.. You and me.”
I just broke apart. Leaping to him, arms around his neck.. My entire body pressed into his, I sobbed. I went on about how amazing he is to me. About his soft good sheets, apples, growing my hair long and yoga. About Murphy the borrowed dog, hugging monkey documentaries, the need for Chicken Gumbo and our amazing friends. Everything and nothing.
Then I found my words.
“I loved Andy so much. No matter what happened I kept trying. I kept forgiving. I married him. I spread Joss’s dust there. I failed, spectacularly in judgement, in self preservation… AND I didn’t love him a fourth of how much I love you. He left me with nothing and nowhere. I cant do it again.”
What Sully did next, will stay with me for the rest of my life. He pulled me into his bedroom, smoothed tear damp curls from my face. He rifled thru my lil basket of make up and held my face as he applied red lipstick to my lips. The tears fell gently from both of us as he tossed me a pair of heels from under his bed. He picked up his phone and dialed up Begin Again.
So gently he held me, as we were dancing. He told me that I was a pain in the ass, but I was his. That… I loved him like he needed to be loved. He pet my face, tears truly making it difficult for him to speak. He said all he wanted was to fight my battles for me and I just wanted him to fix everyone else’s life. He spoke of Sundays and record players. Of trips to see my boy and making a home together so far from where we are of. How I made things taste like childhood and surrendered my body so willingly to his. He said he wanted to kitchen dance and have sex on rooftops under the big fat moon. How he wanted our dirty laundry to mingle together. My little shoes to be next to his, by the back door. He wanted the simple and would leave the extraordinary to me..
There was no other answer than yes. We packed my things the next day after work. This morning I woke up, questioning.. panicking…. SO much lost.. so many new starts… feeling like a guest in his house… I refused to ruin our weekend. I went out to the market..
I came home to notes every where…. From the front door… IT read Goose and Bootsie’s front door.. To bed.. to closet, counters, TV, desk, books, socks, tub, light fixtures, clocks…. Everywhere you looked were small printed notes proclaiming that said items were Goose and Bootsie’s….
I can deal with the grand gestures…. But when it’s a million small ones all at once….
I was running a bath, feeling so hopeful. Feeling so cherished and wanted. I looked at my blushing face and realized he made me actually glow. I climbed into the bubbles and a giggle escaped me… Followed by another and another. Tears formed. Wonder. Deep thought. Whats passed has passed.
Sully is my Goose, and while you might look at this pic and think naked chick in a bath, so what?
This is Our bath now. Off the side of Our bedroom. In Our house. IN Our town. And those tears in my eyes are gratitude for the way he loves me. That naked chick in the tub is all his. All In.
He can have my Ex’s songs, the last piece of pie, the left side of the bed and my body, love and soul.
And so, with this man to gently hold my heart and a house to keep us safe… This Sinful Sunday… I Begin Again.