A reason to smile.

These days my life has been taken in baby steps. One day at a time, one moment at a time.

I can breathe. I can honestly wake up in the morning and take a deep breath, and let it out, and feel fine. Come what may, I’ll be just fine with nothing to worry about at all.

I’m crazy about him. I honestly am. I love the fact that after 9 when minutes are free, he and I can just go on for hours about absolutely nothing. I love the fact that I can have intellectually stimulating conversations with him. I love the fact that I can broaden my vocabulary and he still understands me. I love that he’s motivated and has his life in order, and has his future set up with several failsafes and backup plans. I love the fact that he is at the very least a foot taller than me, and he’s long and lanky and skinny and can wrap himself all the way around me. I love the fact that he’s as much of a snuggle whore as I am.

I love that sometimes I can look across the room and catch him smiling, and I don’t have to ask him what he’s smiling about. He’s smiling for the same reason I am: He’s happy and content and plans on staying in this for the long run, and has absolutely no interest in anything else.

What’s more, is I love the fact that he wants me to be who I am. He wants nothing about me to change. He loves my fire, and my imperfections, and even the way that my mohawk gets all fluffy in the morning before I gel it and makes me look like an irate parrot.

I love that I have a reason to smile.

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-M