Coming To Be

It’s times like these, when he’s off in his own world and I’m free to study him that I wonder how it came to be.  How we came to be.  We certainly aren’t star-crossed lovers, no Romeo and Juliet here.

He is so pulled together, so eloquent and articulate next to my fumbling, ardent weirdness.  Although he’d make a face at the word weird.  He prefers and insists I’m quirky.  As though that’s a good thing.

He is calm and steady, a compass that points true north.  I’m full of whirlwind energy and uneven ground, with a huge need to just simply explore.  There is gentleness to him, a sense he knows where he belongs and I’m still pushing and fighting, resisting every step.

ive known his past and can’t understand how we’ve come to be.  We are so different and so alike in other ways.  He is so sure of his place where as I’m so sure of what I believe even if I have no clue where my place iS.

A friend of his confided that upon first meeting me there was raised eyebrows.  I’m not at all like his past.  Not a swish of soft skirts, no soft voice and domestic comfort here.  No ladylike grace and genteel ways.  I’m more like a bull in a china shop, brash and sure of some things and stumbling around others.  I’m loud at times, and find skirts to be the cause of an allergy when hey come in contact with my skin.

And it’s at these times I wonder about all of this as I watch him.  He seems happy and comfortable enough.  He’s sure of this even as I have a need to pull out a microscope and study us. He smiles and promises me no matter what, this still works.

I wonder how he knows, how he can be so sure when I still can’t understand how it works, but know that somehow it does.  I wonder how he can be so calm in his belief, ignoring pasts and focusing on present and future with a steady commitment.  I wonder what happens if one day I give in and say yes.  If I toss the flowers over my shoulder and settle into domestic normalcy.

He catches me watching him and raises an eyebrow, my thoughts surely written bold above my head.  He doesn’t say a word, just smiles at me and shakes his head.  The unspoken words pass between us, him telling me to go ahead and keep looking.  His smile tells me his faith in us is strong enough for all of this.  And I find myself wondering why I do this.  Why I feel a need to examine this.  Why I can’t have faith and belief in this.  But he accepts it; he’s told me a million times before, he isn’t going anywhere so I can study him and yes until there is nothing left to study.

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