Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Love Letter...Butterflies, Baby. Butterflies.

I was curled up in a cozy corner booth with your momma, sore belly from laughing so hard, dry eyes after a few tears shed and tender spots on our hearts numbed with Guinness, Bailey's and 18 year old Jameson's. What else do you do in an amazing Irish pub? You tell tales and drink, that's what you do. I felt so insulated from the world outside with it's passion and promise and pain...every day, all day. I had arrived in a magical wet city and found a magical little niche. I didn't think it could possibly get any better.

Then you walked in. I was speechless for moments that felt like eons. What a well~kept secret you were...with your eyes full of twinkle, all smile and tall easy grace. That was my first impression of you and it exponentially got better and better minute by minute. I knew in the first hour that I wanted to keep you, that one of the people~shaped holes in my life that I had been waiting to be filled was the shape of you. I love it when that happens, when I trust and go with it and there is a near audible click between people.

It wasn't only you. It was your cousin with his big laugh and sweet vulnerable tentative confidence, his love with her sweet toughness and the rock star with his huge musician ego and absolute loving loyalty. It was an instant falling in love with each and every one of you immediately. Your chemistry as a tight little group took my breath away and when you let me fit in, fall in, be myself and pulled me closer into your fold, I was honored beyond measure. But it was you who continued to take my breath away. It was you with your whispers and touches, flirtations and invitations that made me dizzy and giddy.

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