This man that receives me day in and day out
Who comes home after a long hard day at work and stands there
Listening to my every word
This man, with his sincere smile
My words, like a blabbering fool, spill out unto our conjoined air
He hears about my days' struggles,
The kids' fights,
The lady on the freeway who almost hit me,
The rumor my mom's entertaining.
This man listens to me
All while catching a glimpse at his callused hand
His eyes gloom down at his rough fingers
He's been at work all day
Hearing complaints, deciphering car problems, dealing with Insurance Adjusters.
Yet he stands there, itchy from the Shop's dust on his uniform
He still stands there, aching knees probably
Gives me a raised eyebrow here and there to let me know I've got his full attention
His big brown eyes, seducing.
God, I am so blessed.
Laying next to him, while he sleeps, hours later,
Recalling the previously-mentioned events.
I am in the dark, typing away...
I can here his breathing. He is so tired.
And he does it all for me.
Makes me feel like he is my Hosea. And I, I am the tattered woman.
Undeserving to have this man love me the way he does.
What can I do, God, to give him rest. To love him back.
What can I do. I feel I am not good enough. Don't do enough -can't do enough
Because of this sickness that plagues me. Why did you give such a good man
This lemon of a person?
This damaged wife?
So I ask him:
You love me so much. Why? Even with all my faults.
Those faults are just superficial. I love YOU.
~Life As Lizzy