A tribute to real men

11 01 2012

Just something positive to let men know that they are appreciated, and to remind ladies not to settle for less.





I’m daydreaming again. There’s just something about this place that makes dreaming so easy.

29 08 2011

I can see it now, babe, our life together.

Like the first morning I wake up with you. There will be that odd feeling at first, you know: disorientation. Something’s different, I think to myself behind closed eyes, still sleepy but puzzled. Then it dawns on me.

“Oh my God,” I gasp out loud. ”I’m married.”

Wide awake now, I turn my head to find you beside me, smiling. You’re trying not to laugh, I can tell.

“Good morning,” you whisper, in that voice that I’ve had the biggest crush on from the start.

“I’m your wife,” I inform you, like this is news somehow.

You give up on holding the chuckles back.

“Yes,” you laugh, pulling me close. “And I’m your husband.”

That vital piece of information gets lost in the pleasure of snuggling deeper into your arms. My favorite place in the world, sweetly familiar on this life-changing day.

“It feels strange,” I admit to your chest, the only part of you that I can see. You’re holding me so tightly I couldn’t look up, but I don’t want any space between us. Not even the tiniest bit.

“Being married?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, but the feeling is wearing off as I focus on the beat of your heart. Another familiar thing.

“Bad strange?” you ask, ready to reassure me. You’ve always done that, calmed me down when I over think myself into a panic. You’ve talked down my walls until the only thing keeping me safe is the certainty that you will never, never, never take your love away.

I consider all of that, as well as your question, and I realize that there’s nothing to over think. This is you. This is us. We get to keep each other forever. And on the heels of that thought comes a great big booming burst of joy inside my chest. Fireworks, babe. Cheers and confetti and a big brass band. The biggest smile of my life growing inside my heart. I’m married. To you.

“No,” I say, wanting to jump up and bounce on the bed, except I don’t really want to leave your arms. “Wonderful strange. The bestest and happiest kind.” Can you feel my smile against your skin?

And then you turn my face up, and you see it for yourself, all the happiness in my eyes. It has to show — I don’t think my body can keep that much joy a secret. I don’t  mind. I want you to know all the deepest things written in my soul. I love you. I choose you. I choose you over fear, over self-protection, over doubt. I choose you for the rest of my life, for always. Completely. Irrevocably. No one else.

When you kiss me, I can feel those same words in every touch of your lips. All the words you’ve said over and over, even long before I was brave enough to say them back. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. Never stop believing that I do.

As I start to lose myself, I realize one thing. Every morning, from this day forward, will begin like this. And suddenly, that doesn’t feel strange anymore. It feels right. It’s the rightest thing in the world, waking up beside you. It’s the only way I want to wake up for the rest of my life.

Until someday, my love.

Wait for me as I wait for you.





The other side of someday

9 05 2011

I want to watch the rain with you. I want to cuddle on the couch with a blanket, a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows, and you. We’ll open the window a little bit so that the smell of rain can come in, but I won’t be cold. With your arms around me, I’ll be in the safest place I’ve ever been, surrounded by your strength. It’s the only home I’ll ever need.

I want to go camping on the beach, on an island that we can have to ourselves. We’ll put up a tent and wake up early enough to catch the sunrise, and run on sand untouched by any other feet. At night, we’ll light a fire and watch the stars and the fireflies, but it’ll be the hardest thing in the world to think of wishes. What more can I ask for? You’re more than I ever dreamed I could have.

I want to walk with you, too, to everywhere and nowhere in particular. City sidewalks, lamp-lit boulevards, and long-forgotten trails — we’ll explore them together. We’ll duck into old secondhand book stores, try new cafes, or have a picnic under the trees. But the best part of these adventures won’t be how far we went, but the steps we took closer to each other. I’ll never get tired of discovering the man who won my heart.

But mostly, I just want to be with you. To hear you promise your love and trust that you mean it. To confess how I need you and know that vulnerability is okay. To look at you and see you looking at me and know that you’re thinking: “Wow. We really get to spend our lives together.” I’ll be thinking it, too. Because after all the false starts, babe, after all the wrong turns that broke my heart… I still believe you’ll come. I still believe you’ll find me.





And here I thought I was the only one who wrote letters to the future

25 02 2011

So there’s this guy. He has a blog. He writes to his future wife.

Even though I’ve written to my future husband several times, I didn’t think guys were into that, too.

He says things like, “I want to hear how you say my name… in various instances. I want to be able to tell that it is your favourite thing to say. And that it spills out over your lovely lips so damn naturally because you’ve been annoying your friends by saying it to them all the time.”

And  “I’d like to have kids. You know, with you. I can almost see already how it will unfold. I think our first baby will be a boy. And I’ll hope, with every ounce of my being, that when he finds someone to spend his life with, he’ll be half as lucky as I’ve been.”

I stayed awake the whole night reading. And afterwards, I still couldn’t sleep, because his words had peeled the protective crust off my heart, and all my deepest, most honest longings lay throbbing and naked on the surface.

I want to be loved like that. I want someone who will write letters on paper, and stage a sock puppet show when I’m sick, and promise me cupcakes for breakfast to get me to fall asleep at night. I want to share root beer popsicles, and cuddle in bed, and kiss while making dinner. I want to be cherished, not just needed.

And I need to love someone like that. Someone who will receive all the tenderness I have to offer and never stop seeing it as a gift. Someone who will let me give myself and find joy in the giving, because I’m not afraid that anything will be taken for granted.

Someone who will never make me feel invisible. Someone who will never let me go.

Just thinking about it makes me giddy.

Just thinking about it makes me terrified.

Because, who am I kidding, it’s one thing to write letters to the perfect girl, and it’s a completely different thing to meet…me.

I used to think waiting for the right man to come along was difficult. Now I know it’s gotta be harder when he finally comes. Because then I — the messy, complicated reality of me — would have to stand up to this man who’s been dreaming of his ideal girl all his life and say, “Hi. It’s me that you’ve been looking for.”

And, for all my imagination, I haven’t yet figured out what he will say to that.





Another Letter for My Future Husband

14 02 2011

Beloved,

It’s been almost four years since I first wrote you a letter, and so much has changed. Four years isn’t a long time, but reading that letter feels like a glimpse into another life. In a lot of ways, I am a different person today.

I still love you. That much remains the same. I am still waiting, and I still have faith that you will find me someday. But that someday seems farther away now than it did four years ago, and I can no longer see it clearly.

So much has happened. And someday I will tell you all about it; I will cry in your arms and tell you about the hurt and the heartbreak and the confusion that have me stumbling now, hesitant to come closer to you because I would not have you see me like this.

There are some battles yet that I have to win on my own before I can face you. I don’t want to give myself to you broken; I want to be able to love you with a heart that is whole and brave and unafraid.

But I will still need you. There are struggles that I cannot face alone, and I want you there. I need you there, and I need to know that you will not leave halfway through. I need to know that you will fight for me, even when the enemy is myself.

And perhaps I may need to fight for you, as well. Perhaps we both have walls that need to be broken down before we can belong together. When that time comes, I want to be strong enough and wise enough not to run away.

Until then, darling, wait for me. Wait with me. Our time will come, love, when we are both ready. But even now, no matter what, I love you. I love you not knowing who you are, or where you are, or whether you are thinking of me at all. I love you not knowing when I will be with you. Because one thing I do know: no matter how many times I stumble on this road, you are walking this path, too, and in the perfect time, you will find me.

Yours,

Abigail





A question

29 09 2010

Slowly, I inch closer and closer.

I’ve been outside too long, and I’m used to running away.

I’m getting a little tired, though, and I wonder what it’s like to feel safe.

Are you the haven that you seem to be?

Knock, knock.





A Letter for My Future Husband

4 09 2010

This is one of several letters I wrote to give to my future husband on our wedding day. I’d just like to share it as an encouragement to those who are also in the season of waiting.

June 9, 2007 (2:38 AM)

Dearest,

By the time you read this, you and I would have met, learned to love each other, and promised to belong together for the rest of our lives. I would have memorized everything about you — your face, your voice, your touch. And you would know me more intimately than anyone ever has or will.

But right now, I am alone. I know you only in my imagination…and my dreams. But, darling, in a way that I can’t explain, I love you now. It’s as if I know you in my heart, and because we are separated by time, I miss you. So I am writing this to you as a way of reaching into the future — to tell you that I am saving my heart until you finally come to claim it. I am waiting for you, beloved. And I pray that wherever you are right now, you are waiting for me as well.

As the days go by, I long for you in a way that I have never experienced before. It is a strange feeling, to miss someone whom I do not even know. My prayer is that this longing will glorify God by drawing me closer to him, because as much as I love you now and will love you in the future, I will always love Him more. I know that it will be the same for you, as it should. Our common passion for the one who made us for each other will strengthen our love and deepen our bond. It will be the first thing that will draw me towards you.

Though it isn’t always easy, I can see the hand of God in giving us this season of waiting. Because you are always in my thoughts, simple activities become special when I think of them as preparation for the future. There is so much more to learn before I am ready. Be patient with me, beloved, for my life is a work in progress. I know that yours is, too. Therefore, allow me to say this now: If there is anything, anything at all in your past that might hurt me, know that you will have my forgiveness. You do not have to earn it; it is yours. I am no stranger to second chances, and I do not want our future to hold any bitterness or recriminations. Let us live in the freedom that the greatest Love of all has restored to us.

Someday, you and I will talk about everything that made us who we are. There may be laughter, tears, thankfulness, and yes, regrets. But always, God’s goodness will be present. It is, after all, because of His love that we will find each other. And when we do, this season of waiting will give way to a season of discovery, when I can finally listen to your stories and tell you all of mine. So until that day, beloved, I am saving myself for you. I have surrendered the keys of my heart to God, and he will open the door for you to enter in the perfect time.

I love you, my darling. I am waiting.

Yours forever,

Abigail






Day 23 — The last person you kissed

1 08 2010

This soul-deep longing for a half-remembered dream bewilders me….

~from Prelude

My love,

The nights when we kiss are the sweetest nights of all. Sometimes it’s tender, achingly slow and saturated with meaning, all our deepest longings and promises being spoken without a word. Or it can be playful, softly teasing and utterly ecstatic, sweetened with joy and delighted laughter. There are also times when it’s passionate, intense, driven by heat and unleashed desire. But always, whenever and however you kiss me, I realize why it couldn’t possibly work with anyone else. Only you can make this happen: the whole world fades away, time slows down, and you become the single most important part of my universe. In that moment, the heartbreaks of the past are forgotten and the doubts of the future vanish — nothing else matters but your touch and the beat of your heart against mine. I know then that I am meant to kiss you and only you for the rest of my life.

You really are the man of my dreams. You know, literally. And someday, I hope I’ll wake up from dreaming into the breathtaking reality of your arms.

Waiting for you,

Abigail


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Someone’s waiting for you

27 07 2010

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Day 9 — Someone you wish you could meet

18 07 2010

How will it feel, I wonder, to smile for you? ~ from After Sunrise


To the one searching for me,

Are you good at storming walls? I am surrounded by them, and they are tall and resilient. They are not to be breached by passive men, men whose hearts are uncertain, those who always take the easier way. Only a man familiar with risk and unafraid of failure stands a chance.  Are you such a man?

There have been those who tried, even some who got in. But they proved to be thieves, and took too much that I could not afford to lose. Because of them, the defenses are stronger now, and more subtle. There is too much at stake, too much that is fragile, to make any more mistakes. And yet…and yet, I still long to be found.

No, I am not a stereotypical damsel in need of salvation — do not bother putting that armor on. These walls are built with more than just stone or cement. You cannot see them, for I am good at pretending I am free, that there are no obstacles between us. It is one of my best defenses, and if you believe it, then you will never get in. And oh, how I ache for you to get in. I need you more than I dare let you know.

I need you to show me that I am worth fighting for. That even behind these walls, I am seen, and desired, and chosen. Chosen despite the dichotomy that pervades me and makes me both eager and afraid to let you in.

And you need me, too. I have all this tenderness waiting inside me, waiting to be lavished on someone who’ll know what it’s worth, who’ll know what chains had to be broken to open even one door. I may have hurt you in trying to keep you out, but set me free, and I can heal you as well. You can rest in my arms, and I will give you everything that I have been saving for this moment, when I can put my guard down and simply trust. I will love you as I have longed to love you since you looked at me and saw the hope behind the fear.

My only question is this: Are you good at storming walls?

Waiting,

The one for you


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