She

She hates cell phones and text messaging.  She’s not a money or a thing person and She struggles with putting herself first, in any opportunity with options.  She has the greatest sense of humor and is quick to laugh.  She possesses two flavors of smiles.  The sweetest subtle fighting-to-keep-from-it-but-just-can’t-stop-it-closed-mouth-slightly-canted-to-the-left-side-of-her-face smile … and a huge utterly-unabashed-no-holds-barred smile with a delicious warm laugh you want to run through.  She calls her beautiful auburn hair, brown and She’s partial to these earthy tones.  She loves animals — dogs.  She doesn’t really care for much social stuff – but seemingly has a small sea of friends that She invests effort in keeping ties with.  She likes simple-and-natural pretty and wears little or no makeup.  She has compassion for the lowly and distain for the bully.  She cultivates many different specific passions of kindness and good that succeed in forming a beautiful blend of contrasting characteristics.  She is soundly commonsensical and subtly sentimental.

She … represents the most astoundingly wonderful frustration, in that I cannot get enough of her.  She … is attentively receptive to love.  So beautifully prepared and postured to accept what my heart issues just for her.  So pleased that the expression or gesture or touch was intended just for her … and careful to allow none of it to be dropped; such that I only want to pour more in her and over her – bathing her in it.  It is such a sweet pleasure to love her.  No matter the degree I might aim at her … She effortlessly pours more in me and on me.

She possesses tender beauty in every form, on every level, in every substantial way … to cavernous depths … that She is utterly unaware of and completely oblivious to.  Astounding physical beauty that She denounces and denies – but I savor.

I cannot touch her frequently enough and wherever my hands come to rest on her, they immediately need to move to another region of her body … and then move yet, again, in a futile effort to ‘read’ all of her by way of Braille.  I cannot get close enough to her … I cannot see her from enough angles … I cannot see her in enough differing light … I cannot take her in enough to be satisfied such that I don’t crave to take her in yet, more.  She is wonderfully, beautifully, mysteriously, and simply “more” than I can absorb – and absolutely more than I merit.  And I am so completely grateful.

How often we apply elevated terms of character to those we might fall in love with, as we see them in the light of that possible love.  Yet, I am beyond comfortable in asserting that such lovely descriptive terms like warm, sweet, kind, tender, and caring actually fall short in reaching her in definition or summation.  Her kindness and love are intimidating, in their sincerity.  She is not self promoting — and thus, She is completely captivating.  She is so focused on intentional care for others … that I am completely compelled to care for her.

I have never felt so comfortable in saying the following in my life, in any romantic relationship I was involved in.  I … the king of personal-relational-insecurity … comfortably assert … She really loves me.  She needs me.  She can’t get enough of me … wants my presence … wants every touch … every kiss … every word and leans into me literally and figuratively at the slightest indication I may be reaching out to her in any manner.  She desires every moment and has no reservations in making that clear.  She is absolutely positively crazy about me …and for all the reasons I might hope a woman would be, too — all the reasons that the vast majority of women look at me and just walk away perplexed … She instead, smiles big … presses in … and wants it all.  And because of some odd genetic defect actually thinks She is getting the better deal in our relationship.  I pray She is never healed of this blindness and I will do all in my power to keep her believing this insane perspective.   :-)

She has waited for me and I know it.  I get and bask in who She is and She is substantial such that She gulps down the value of that.  What She doesn’t fully realize is that I have waited longer and longed for deeper … her.  I am deeply aware of how singular She is in being a soul I am overwhelmed with pleasure to be captivated by — a solitary feminine heart of immense beauty, pleasing every sensory element I possess — and She is actually drawn to me.  I am beyond grateful for the inexpressible providential goodness that has been directed here.

I have something, in my life that I have longed for, always.  Someone … in my life to connect with in love.  I have a “beloved”.  That soul you genuinely want to say every really corny overly-sweet expression to over and over and over and over … because you could not be more sincere in sentiment … and their presence pulls it from you.  It is not kiddy … it is not childish … it is not immature … it is not storybook.  It is utterly delightful.  She loves God and shows it … loves her family and shows it … She cares about people and shows it.  She has strengths and weaknesses … doubts and fears … uncertainties and anxieties.   And I love every single aspect of the “all” that She is.

She … is perfectly imperfect — and I love her deeply.  I am blessed!