The Irishman: Day three-six-five

Dear Irishman,

This day last year, I did not know you.

I did not know that the very next day you would ask to meet me.

I did not know that I would try very hard not to like you or that you would be so persistent in showing me how wonderful you are.

I did not know that I would I have to make a choice between being a dating warrior, with all the appropriate defenses that a warrior might have, and putting down all that armor and just being.

I did not know that we’d laugh so much.

I did not know that we’d be so crazy about each other.

I did not know that anyone could see through my smartass bullshit enough to challenge me to just be real. Open. Vulnerable.

I did not know that you’d see all my faults and all my skeletons and all my baggage and love me anyway … with no conditions.

I did not know that you’d never test me. I did not know that you’d have no conditions. I did not know that you’d be so sure about me.

I did not know that you’d let me test you because I thought I needed to. I didn’t know that you’d teach me how to stop needing to.

I did not know I’d have to make so many choices about whether to run away from you or not. I did not know that I’d lose my nerve so often, or that you’d be so generous and loving when I did.

I did not know that you’d want to plan with me, dream with me and spend time doing nothing and everything with me.

This day last year was like any other day before it. You were not in my life.

I can’t believe it’s been a year.

You’ve made my world more complicated in so many beautiful ways. Thank you for being you. And for being with me.

(Now go make me a chicken pot pie because this is getting way too sappy up in here.)

😉