The Man

So one of my last posts was about the new guy in my life. It's been about a year now, so it's not quite so new anymore.

The gooey, gushy rush of new love has passed. The bloom may not be entirely off the rose, but the petals have been wilting in the heat.

Don't get me wrong--I'm still in love. He's kind, funny, considerate, gentle--many great qualities that will stand us in good stead in the years to come. We are compatible in many ways, and I enjoy his company.

But there are no illusions. I know what he's like when he's angry, cranky, tired, sick--I know his bowel habits and his health issues, his body hair and his Achilles heel. Yet....

If you asked me to go back to the start, I wouldn't. I cherish the time when the facade drops and the real person emerges. The fragility, vulnerability, honesty....trusting another human with who you truly are. Knowing that they can take it, that they aren't afraid or disgusted.

The beauty of The Man is that he has allowed me to drop my facade as well. I am known, and loved, warts and all. The roses may be wilted, but this is the bouquet I'll hold on to.