Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Rex's "Human Rights"

Rex's human writes a love letter to the wife he has yet to meet:

Being canine, Rex isn't particularly good with words.  He gets his message across in other ways.  He does, however, pine for a pack, a companion, a 'litter' one day.  Rex rolls over in his doggy bed most mornings and thrust out a paw, still in slumber, and expects to find his mate there beside him.  She isn't, of course, she only exists in his dreams at the moment as he awaits her to brave it out through more than a couple of dates...

Most often Rex is gone by the time his human wakes up, but sometimes he lingers long enough to cause his human side to dream with his eyes wide open, and sometimes even with his fingers hovering over a keyboard...
Looking Forward, Love of My Life:  You Make Me a Better Me
I want to tell you something I didn't the other day, Love.  We were in the car, you turned your head and did that thing you do with the set of your jaw when you're thinking about something and I fell in love with you again.  I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want to interrupt your train of thought and I was feeling so off-balance in that moment, I wasn't sure I'd get it right.  I guess getting it right wouldn't have been much of an issue, now that I think about it.
While I'm catching up on telling you some things, I want to thank you.  Thank you for being you.  We're all guilty of projecting, seeing our partner through our vision of the way we want them to be, not the way they are, but you have that gentle, insistent way of deflecting my attempts to do so.  I love you for that, Sweetheart.  Don't change, and don't change the way you stop me from trying to change you.  None of us are perfect, Love, but you're perfect just the way you are, imperfectly perfect.
You looked so worried the other night when we were getting ready to go out and you changed skirts three times (or was it six?) and I wanted to find a way to tell you what I see: that you walking around in nothing but heels and a pullover was causing me no end of trouble keeping myself contained; that you don't understand that you make men's knees quake and women inexplicably see red even if you're just wearing a lab coat...  But I wasn't sure you were in the mood to hear any of that.  You should know, though, that while neither of us are 10's, when I catch sight of our reflection walking towards ourselves in a storefront window I find myself wondering who that babe is beside me!  It makes me think "Sometimes we look good, but sometimes we look freaking GREAT" and it's you that makes that true, my Perfect Package.  I adore you.

At a time of life when so many women are giving in to "It's my genes/hormones/'baby weight'!" you just relentlessly change things up to stay the same you I met and married.  The running, the food choices, that resistance and determination you wear like a mantle when friends and family and so many others are all so happily acquiescing -- chowing down and adopting the 'new normal' despite the fact that it's an early death sentence -- you reaffirm every time I wrap my arms around you that we are compatible in so many fundamental ways.  I thank you for that (even though I know it's just part of who you are).
You might not know it, but you shake me up in so many ways, unintentionally and inexplicably.  You've proven to me that mysteries abound -- you're my Mystery.  The other day when that guy was blathering on about that theoretical hydro-physics thing and you just got it, twisted it and spun it back at him, you left me feeling such deep respect for my wife and her big brain.  (Yes, that was the night we broke the seat release thingy down in the parking garage.)  But how you can do that stuff and still pick out paint colours that make people ask you to come over and decorate their house; or sit down out of the blue and scribble something abstract and absolutely beautiful; or put together outfits that have salesgirls asking where you buy your stuff; all that really puts me in awe of you.  You bring together creativity and smarts in ways that leave me breathless. 
Your passion for things most people don't notice, your penchant for 'giving back,' your streaming, silent tears at those charity ads, your interest in things that matter, that can make a difference...  Your interest in politics and issues -- most women won't 'go there' while you wade in -- is something I both respect and appreciate.  The way kids want to be near you, the way you melt at random animals antics, the time you carried around that kitten we found around until the poor thing expired despite your loving ministrations...  You inspire me.  You make me want to make a difference.  
I suspect, though you cover it so well, that most of it 'ain't your thang,' but I do appreciate the way you gamely hum along with all the weird music I make you listen to.  Jazz, 'world music', classic rock, country and some opera aren't most women's cup of tea, but you make me feel like there's nothing you like better.  The same thing goes for your small smiles and the touch of your hand when I show off my latest DIY projects -- your pride in me and my accomplishments small and large fills me up and makes me strong.
Thanks for being my better half in so many ways, my Love.  Yes, it's cliche, but you make me want to be a better man and just being with you has made me better.  Your constant, consistent, heartfelt cheer-leading and support makes me see possibilities I never have before.  When you let me go on and on about my latest brainwave, uncomplainingly and so encouragingly, I know that you 'get' that I need to run through things out loud before I can synthesize an idea.   You're my Rock.  You rock.  I love you. 
Thanks for knowing I tend to give too much, for forcing me to take sometimes.  Thanks for letting me be a 'mother hen' to you at times and for allowing me to be a risk-taker -- neither can be easy on you.  Thanks for trying, if not always loving, all the stuff I like to do, or like to try to do.  You're a brave soul and truly an 'old soul', despite your lack of worldly exposure.
You may not think I heard (or that wine refill meant you weren't able to pay a lot of attention!), but when you talk about me the way you do at parties and family functions, with that glow, the words you choose, it's at moments like those that I'm reassured, yet again, that the wait for you was worth it.  It means more than I can ever say that you chose to be my 'one' (no, not "THE One," we're both too experienced and realistic to believe there's only one right one out there).  You chose to give me the chance to prove I could be a decent choice for you, a 'good man' to your great woman, a lover and friend, a critic and unconditional supporter.  You're the one for me, my Heart, my Soul, my Girl.  
You smile at me and the world's a better place.  Your quirky wit, your irreverence, your tendency to 'not suffer fools gladly,' the humour you see in things others can't, the way you put 2 and 2 together and get 4.6, even your sarcasm, all float my boat.  (And you're not a bad kisser.  ;-)
Yes,  writing you this way has made my eyes well up more than once -- you do that to me when I least expect it.  You're a powerful force in my life, the fire that ignites and the cool calm that soothes moments of rage when people are unfair (sorry for my 'to the right of the median' testosterone level -- it has its upside at times...).  You're a tonic and an elixir.  You're my magic potion, my Love Potion #9, and so much more.
I just wanted to tell you I miss you, Baby, because I haven't met you yet, and I get a little impatient sometimes, and a bit lonely.  You take your time, though.  I don't want to rush it.  I've waited so long a bit longer can't hurt...  
Thanks for reading this and believing, having read it, that I just might stand out just a smidgen from all those other boys out there, the maddening crowd, the rabble, the chest-thumpers, the dangerous, glowering lads, the sweet but ultimately yawn-inducing salt-of-the-earth-ers.   
Thanks for knowing, in your heart, that if I wrote this to you before we met, a wealth of great things were coming down the pipe for us both -- if only you resisted clicking 'read/delete' and said what you eventually did to me.  I did hear you back in the cave.
Love, kisses, and a whole bunch of that stuff I can't put on a public blog. I look forward to you, Love of My Life.
Woof!  (and Rex LOVES you, too.)


Hm.  Well, dear readers, only one comment!  I guess it only struck a romantic chord with me.  Sigh...  No wonder I'm not getting a lot of dates, I've lost any romantic intuition I might have ever had!  And no, this is not an ode to a lost love, but rather to that ideal woman I'd like to think is still out there.

(And I'm just egging you on, of course.  Those of you who 'get me' have sent emails, and I appreciate your warm words.  ;-)

1 comment:

  1. very touching and well written!


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