Strange as it may seem, this life is based on a true story." - Ashleigh Brilliant
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True blue Scorpio
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Friday, October 08, 2004
This is my Baret. He doesn't like it when I use his name on my blog, and he'll probably like me posting his picture even less. But he's cute when he's angry, so it's worth it.
The day I met Baret he drove me across the street to a gas station so I could buy a pack of cigarettes. He opened the car door for me, and the door to the convenience store, he smiled and chatted with the cashier, and dropped all of his change in the whatever-charity-foundation dish on the counter. Chivalry wasn't dead - all 5'4" of it was standing right in front of me, and I was completely smitten.
This gray-eyed, long-lashed, little Cajun man with the prominent Romanesque nose and soft lips that possessed an infectious smile, a darling accent and the manners of a true Southern gentleman pretty much had me at "hello" - as cliche and cheesy as that sounds.
We'd only been dating a few weeks when my "bad day" (September 7, as I'm sure you've read on here before) came looming. I told him about it, and how rough it was on me. Yet I never expected to get a massively huge arrangement of sunflowers (my favorite flower) delivered to my work on September 7. "I think you've got a keeper," my co-workers chided me. I did indeed.
Yesterday was a wet and blustery day - it had been storming since lunchtime. As I made my way out at quitting time, I was surprised to see Baret just outside the building's front doors, waiting for me. Apparently he'd come into the office sometime that day, but I couldn't fathom why he was waiting for me. It wasn't until I stepped outside that I saw the umbrella in his hand. He walked me to my car, getting wet himself in the process since my cane being in the way prevented him from getting close enough to me to get the under the umbrella too. Three years later and he's still as charming and gentlemanly and thoughtful as the day I met him.
I've been meaning to sit and blog about my wonderful man for some time now, but there was always something else to bitch about, or complain about, or wax poetic on. But it was the shock of possibly losing him that jarred me into true appreciation. Last night we talked about going our separate ways and I can literally hear my heart breaking; I'm in such pain and in such a bad place right now.
I love this man. I love him with every fiber of my being. I love our life together and I can easily live with the things that make it less-than-perfect. I wish he could see that. He thinks he fails me somehow, but the truth is I'm one of the luckiest women in the world! I love his beautiful smile and his perfect, white teeth. I love the way he looks when he wakes up in the morning and the twinkle in his eye when he laughs. I adore his perfect, little lithe body and his fuzzy goatee he keeps up just for me. I could drool all over him when he dresses up, especially when he wears maroon. Swoon.
He's made me a better person. Because of him I'm more responsible, more level-headed and better able to play at being an "adult". Because of him I'm more refined - he educated me about fine wines and good cigars, and has taught me to appreciate nicer things. He's smoothed and polished over my rough spots, rounded my sharper corners but still let me keep some of my edge. He has improved me as a person in so many ways.
I love this man and I don't want to lose him. I know he loves me, too. But is Love enough?