us. in Drifter in Zion

I want to move. To a different house. Out of state. I want change. I want something other than here. I want where the sun doesn’t crack my skin, my face doesn’t blare, and we can explore the unknown.

I know it’s a pipe dream. At least for now. You’re climbing the ladder at work (ungrateful bastards), and the current opportunity might foreshadow a career outside of the (redacted) industry.

You want out, I think. And I want that for you.

I love you.

I was thinking about how to describe love, but love - real love, the kind that burns deep and quietly, is hardly describable. There is not a proper word. Not one elegant, fierce, or just enough.

It’s us against the world, and I’m okay with that.

I once resigned myself to spinsterhood, but you unexpectedly popped into my life. Our first date was nothing special. We sat across from each other in a crowded restaurant, making awkward small talk, and you wanted to scare me away with your long hair and grizzle-beard.

I fell in love instead.

And I continue to fall every day.

I fall when the garage door opens, and our little devils scream and giggle and clamor for your attention.

I fall when you hold my hand in the car.

I fall when you laugh.

I fall when when we embrace, skin to skin, alone and quiet and intense.

I fall over and over.

It’s us against the world, dear, and I don’t know if I believe in soulmates, but you’re mine.

Last updated June 27, 2019