I never really expected to meet K. She seems like some pipe dream that I once dreamed up laying awake late at night.
I start my new job in the morning. I have a headache from too many cigarettes, and too many beers that have been forced upon myself, by myself to try to get some sleep. But I cant. My thoughts consume me. I think about her always.
I want to tell you all about her. About why I'm here. About why I'd risk falling in love with a married woman, why I'd be able to look into her eyes and see everything I could possibly want in another human being and have it just so close, almost at the figertips. Just grazing them, letting you know that if you just hang in there. Just a little while longer. But this isnt about the wait. Its about the woman.
K and I formed a quick friendship, as a matter of fact, everything about our relationship has been quick. Its not to say that it's been rushed, because it hasn't. But it's been seamless. I think of my relationship with K as that perfect tub of bathwater. You come home beaten by the day, looking for solace, and comfort. So you run yourself a bath. Its that one in a million baths that you run, the one thats just slightly above body temperature that you slide into without a wince. It feels good. Warm, comforting. Just hot enough to release the stress, the tension, but not hot enough to be uncomfortable, but not cold and lipid either. That is how I feel when I am with her. She comes into my viewpoint, and nothing else matters. I am with her now. She that fills me with love. With compassion. With interest.
She and I have an ease about us. Never when we're together is there a lull. But never is it forced either. Its like two streams meeting. Neither one stronger than the other, but a perfect combined determination to flow together. To create oneness. She is the reason I'm here, my purpose for writing.
At first it was friendship. We both needed the attention from the other. She an ignored housewife, and myself a castoff of a relationship I thought full of promise. Feeling dejected I sought solace in her. What I found was so much more. She fixed me up. Made me happy. I was still a little blinded through the process. Not knowing where my bearings lie. But through the fog she was my lighthouse. As the confusion over what it is or what I was doing was lifted I saw her. I saw her for the first time in all of her glory. I saw her for who she is.
She is a caring person. She feels the slight of others, and the slight that others feel. She's compassionate. She cares about giving to those that have had a rough break. She cares about things that are helpless, that are in need. She pitches in. She gives back. It breaks my heart to see her feel like her contributions don't matter. Like she can't give enough. She gives more than most, tries hard to make the world a better place, and asks almost nothing in return. I don't do enough. But if I can give to, and build up a woman that does such great things isnt that enough to make me kind of OK?
I dont mind the opinions of others. I am strong enough to shirk or beat down any notion of the contrary, so I dont mind. I could be the man behind this woman. I could support her and build her up for the things that she was meant for. She is great. She is one of the few people I have met in my life that I would gladly lie down and die for. I would support her with every ounce of my being as she supports all of you. If that is my lot in this life, I would truly die with a smile on my face.
I watch her intently, at first it was to find some flaw. Something I could hitch my hat to and say, "well, thats that then." But it doesn't exist. Its not to say she's perfect. But she gives. All god damned day long. She shops, she picks out things, she grows things from dirt, she makes things by loving hand. I see all of this and want it for my own. Knowing that I could reciprocate, knowing that I could make her feel as appreciated as she should feel. Not from words. not from thank you's. But by meaning. This is my oath. This is my manifesto.
Nowhere that she goes, and nothing that she does shall ever go unnoticed. Not by me. Her compassion fuels me, he love warms me, her attention drives me. Never again shall I roam.
I told you that I would tell you why I loved her one day and here it is. She is my beacon home.
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