Taking the Edge Off

We drive each other crazy

always have, always will

please forgive, but I just gotta say . . . We complete each other

He’s tough when I’m weak, rough where I’m soft. I’m particular where he just doesn’t care. He’s messy, I’m not. He sees the big picture and I help him not forget the details. Him protecting, me making things pretty. He pours the wine, I bake the cake and we dance in the kitchen. Him and I together we make beautiful babies and we love them to pieces and they drive us crazy crazy too

We are living, pressing closer closer together now. Ten years drawing near, we meld together, taking the edge off . . .  becoming one. You couldn’t separate out the pieces now. No taking a step back and saying this is him and her and they are fine just on their own. No, not anymore. But still we are as opposite as night and day. He. She. I stand and fight, he runs and hides himself in silence. Yet we always come back to sorry, forgiveness and each other. Always.

Sometimes I want to type out ugliness, sometimes I feel drained dry with nothing more to give or think or say. If you’re joined to another I wonder if you could say you don’t? Many times I feel full to overflowing with our love. Most times I know I’m standing on a rock, weathered by storms, solid, unsinking. The water always breaking on it, taking the edge off. And the light is always changing, sparkling golden on a summer day, lighting up the blue all around bright as sky. Then the sky presses down dark and water rises up to meet, pressing the air out, leaving no room for breath. Thank God the storms move on, and wisps off foggy grey shroud and soothe as we melt into rest. We melt into each other . . . standing on the rock. The wind and light and water always shifting, taking the edge off what we think may be. Pressing us hard into each other, taking refuge in knowing arms and dreams and memories. Taking the edge off two people, life making us irrecoverably one.

p.s. I love his mustache and how it’s dark and golden and thick and flecked with a hint of white. I love how it says he’s a Dad and strong enough to leave the edges soft for me

 

7-4-12 . 24-70mm . LR + VSCO . morning window light