You were joking around about never having gotten one from me, so I wrote this in my head a couple of nights ago. I was kicking around out front, not wanting to take another walk down to the canal to garner my thoughts, and not yet ready to come inside. I walked myself along the slick sides of the street; one foot on pavement, the other lost in the deep, fresh grass. I thought about mowing it, but then realized I had to have been kidding myself, and so I kept walking. I was walking, thinking, thinking, thinking, watching squirrels run across the powerlines, and thinking.
You were talking to me about the Navy that morning. And now, you're in Miami, spending the night in a hotel room and waiting to sign at the recruiters office tomorrow. I had just as difficult a time then as I do now trying to convince myself what I'm feeling.
I think I'm scared for you to sign with the Navy. Scared, but excited. It's not really anything I know how to handle because it's such an odd feeling...definitely not one I've ever encountered before. Scared that I may not get to see you as often as I'd like to? maybe. I AM selfish after all. Or maybe scared that I'll never really know where you are or what you're up to... other than when you're able to write me, of course. But who knows how often that might be.(Even tonight, you find little over 5 minutes at a time to talk to me each time you try to call. Who knows what months of this will do to us.) I'm sure only a couple days here without hearing from you will feel a lot longer than a couple days there without hearing from me. There's no doubt that I'll worry. I mean, you could be in another country and chances are I'll just be sitting at home, only blowing off homework. All the while though, I'm excited. Excited to watch you move on with your life, and to work towards accomplishing something that I know means a lot to you. I'm excited to watch you become even more a man. I'm excited to think that we're growing up. Looking at where we've come from and where we're headed is like looking at the pencil marks Grandpa used to make on the back of the bedroom door. I can see the growth. I also may be a little excited to admit that I have a Navy boy's full attention, and that I'm the one he will write home to. It's sexy, it's sweet, and at the risk of inflating your head anymore, it's been the source of more than a few pleasant daydreams.
These past few days have been more than I could ever ask for. I love our spark, I love our banter, I love "rose," and Akon. ;) I love that you hate Jon McLaughlin because I like him but I've caught you listening to him before. I love you in that white hat, no matter how much I live to argue with you about it. I love that you wrap me up in your jacket whenever you notice another guy looking in my direction. I love that you can make me laugh simply by busting out the lyrics to the Lollipop remix. I love that you make me so mad that I just want to hit you in the head... you know just what to say to me to really get me frustrated, but my expression will never make it obvious. I love your sensitivity and insights, your challenge and your passion. I love that you criticize me and make me look hard at myself. I love whatever it is about you that let's me be me - or, more to the point, whatever it is about you that helps me to be a better me. I love that you accept so little at face value and always look for more. I love that you can say you're sorry and mean it. I love that fact that I could continue this list for at least seven pages, and I love the fact that I don't know whether or not you'll give me shit for being such a sap.
But there is just something about waking up in your arms with a kiss on the forehead after the perfect day that leaves me writing long cheesy blog posts. If you could have seen me only a few minutes before you thought I had just awaken... you would have seen tenderness in my eyes, and a smile on my lips.
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