Tuesday, March 8, 2011

So many reasons...

This past weekend was a fabulous time with my Gentleman. I was nervous because he's been a bit depressed and then I had a rough end to my week too.

I knew I'd be especially tender and quite possibly, read into things. I'd just had my trust broken. (Well, admittedly, the trust was broken a while back and the recent revelation just confirmed it.) I knew that I'd start projecting all of that fear on to him. And what if he was especially sensitive too?

Instead, I did my best to step outside the fear and look at him through the eyes of love.

Here are a few reasons I am in love with this man:

He cooks.

When I arrived, he'd been cleaning house and marinating his famous bacon-wrapped ducks for the grill. He also had a glass of red wine waiting for me.

He looks good wet.

Since he's usually been cleaning/preparing for my arrival, I always seem to find him in the shower when I get there. NEVER a bad thing. #justsayin

He's always happy to see me.


Seriously though, the man wraps me all up, kisses me again and again, staring into my eyes in disbelief that I'm actually there and never takes his hands off of me the entire time I'm with him. Oh to be touched like that... sooooo nice.

Reunion sex.

Again, #justsayin.

And what he says to me during reunion sex. Tssssssssssssss..... hot stuff!

He's so thoughtful.

Just little things he does... from setting a water bottle on my bedside table before bed to making me a smoothie in the morning while I'm cooking breakfast.

He listens to me.

I finally broke down and talked to him about what I went through last week. He knows I will always love those I've loved before. And he's ok with that. He understands how my heart works. He knows that I believe that people are inherently good. So he advised me to continue to believe what I needed to believe about my ex. He advised me to continue to love like I do, as long as it brought me peace.

Then he took me in his arms, right there in his bathroom where I was crying and blowing my nose over and over again.

He held me close, comforting me, loving me and allowing me to feel whatever I needed to feel.

As I stood on my tiptoes, arms wrapped around his neck, my face buried in his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of us in the mirror.

"Damn," he said, "would you look at that fine ass?"


He finds me irresistibly sexy.

What's not to love about that?

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