I got the heeby jeebies last night. I began feeling incompetent, ieffective, too damaged, etc. I got weepy and scared. And we talked.
We fell asleep and woke about four this morning. And we talked.
She says these blogs contain the material for a book. Well, they'll be a year old on August 26th, and there is a LOT of material, especially in this one and in Hood Life.
I need to start organizing material, prioritizing and editing.
She wants us to live together, in a house big enough for each of us to have her own work space. We're negotiating every detail.
It may happen sooner than July 3 of next year. She's thinking of giviing notice where she lives before she leaves in November, putting her stuff in storage, staying here temporarily after the month she's gone and then going house hunting with me in early Spring next year.
She wants me to concentrate on writing and producing.
Now, this girl is no slouch. She knows things. She knows methods. She knows marketing. She knows management. She knows people.
She says my writing is no different than the cooking, produce growing, arts and crafts and other things I've done to earn a living. But I could sell my skills to a larger audience, for more money.
She's right, you know.
I lost a lot of time, in poverty. My skills are rusty. I'm behind the times with the technology. But I'm smart and I learn quickly. I have the basic skills. I just need to brush up.
It's been a very long time since someone had faith in me. I mean, besides myself. It's been a long time since someone thought I was worth the time, effort and energy to support me in my work.
She calls me an artist. She calls me a genius.
I try to take it in, always surprised to hear those words come from such a competent mouth.
She doesn't want me to ever worry about being homeless again. She wants to spend her life with me. She wants the last 30 years of our lives to be spent together, in creative and loving partnership. She calls me "home."
I feel the same way. I'm just glad she said it first. Makes me feel less crazy for being absolutely sure I was right to court her so avidly.
I ignored every negative voice in my head to persue her. I wouldn't listen. I was determined to follow my intuition. I'd made a decision to learn to love myself, as difficult as that might be. And I knew she was, somehow, part of that process.
And now, here we are.
Craziest love story on the books, we are.
But it's perfectly logical, reasonable and natural to both of us.
After our talk this morning, we walked the volcanoes and talked some more.
We came back here and I made us breakfast and packed her a lunch for work.
It seems completely normal that she comes back here every night to sleep in my arms and whisper in my ear.
We have the oddest things in common. We were even each born with our tongues tethered to the floors of our mouths and required surgeries to loosen them. And neither of us has stopped talking since.
We tell each other secrets that could have destroyed lesser relationships. Then, we'll hold each other, comforting and soothing old pains.
I can't quite wrap my mind around how blessed I am. Every day, I'm more amazed by this woman I chose. The more I know her, the more surprised I am at how right I was to persist on loving her.
I feel redeemed.
