Aubree Jordyn Roe, you are invaluable in my life.
February 27, 2010.
For Aubree, forever and now,
I don’t know if I’ve been clear…
I want to touch your face. Preferably with my lips.
Not just once. Maybe a million times, or a billion.
Honestly, it’s just hard to count after days turn to months and years and decades.
You’re insecure. I get that. You were kind of a dorky girl with the mind of an eighty year old, while everyone you knew was trying to be cool and had the minds of six year olds. It makes it tough to make friends and be accepted. But they’re growing up. You’re about to see more of the real world. Go to college, meet crazy people from around the world. Haven’t you realized that EVERYONE loves you now? There isn’t a person who meets you and decides you’re anything less than fantastic.
But see, I picked up on that before everyone else did.
So we’ve been through a bunch of crap. Long days, nights, tears, fights. I’ve seen pain in your eyes and I’ve watched you cry. But I know I make you happy; I fight for it everyday. I’ve seen and done things with you that I hope nobody ever gets to do; things that are special between you and I. I’m greedy, and a tiny bit jealous, but it’s only because I want to treasure the most special thing that’s ever been in my life.
Thank you for being my girlfriend, whether you count that as a month, or two and a half years, thank you for the time we’ve spent together. Understand that, moving forward, I hope to marry you. I think constantly of the beautiful children we’re going to have someday, and it fills me with excitement. When I get scared of the future, I’m driven by the knowledge that I need to be able to support a family with you. That’s what makes me work, that’s what makes me create.
I hope you spend the day enjoying your croutons and blue jello. Please save me some! I’ll see you tomorrow, and I’ll talk to you most of today. I love you, endlessly, Chickadee.
And it’s for those few moments when my heart rate actually slowed to that of a normal human being. It isn’t normally like that; everything I’ve done normally sends it racing. All day every day it stampedes and gallops and makes such a dreadful racket, pushing oxygen and hormones into my brain and the crevices of my body, things happening outside of my control and forcing my desires.
But now, a handful of times, I’ve experienced what it’s like to have a moment that’s so fulfilling my body doesn’t need to do any of that. What desire needs to be forced at the moment that I have you like that, actually, truly, intimately? It slows down, and for a brief span of time in my chaotic life I’m not thinking of any moment or anything that might be, because I’m so satisfied with exactly what is.