Josh...was cheerful as he jumped into the shower and held me against his body, laughing at my failed attempt to keep my crazy hair dry.
It has been surreal, these last few days... I must admit; surreal in "let's do it again and again", wanting a repeat of the weekend, White Russians, painting, snowstorm, our grumpy teen son turned 17...M&M pancakes ...your three stops to the store each one because you forgot some "essential" piece to a perfect snow filled lazy day.
My valentine was chatty due to an over indulgence of cofffee throughout the day...and perfectly timed wiskey drinks at night. My valentine was tender and sensitive as he chatted and laughed...kissing and squeezing all the right parts of me.
As I sit here at the woman's shelter volunteering for my weekly overnight service..writing this blog post waiting for "lights out"... and the hush of night to fall on this space so I can read about feminist fighting the bonds of projected womanhood cast onto them...(lol)....I know I will be lingering on the past weekend a bit in my thoughts... longing to do it all again ...that delisious languishing ...a welcomed emotion elicited by Josh in all his evolved yet constant Josh ways...
My valentine is only a text away...where I can rest in the quick connection of sending him emoji hearts and telling him how I can't wait to be home in the morning to make him breakfast in bed, steam the milk to pour in his coffee and sprinkle it with cinnamon.
I made my valentine a book of quotes and pictures cut from various sources. Statements of love I feel reflect our current heart status, twisted souls entwined (like our tattooes do, like the trees in our painting)...erotic words and words of determination full of gratefulness in hard and easy times colleseced.