Book #1

Preface:  If you are a fan of books that end with a big bang, you may want to look elsewhere.  This book will inevitably leave you with more questions than answers.

Now that I have that out of the way, let me begin by saying I’m a HUGE fan of Mark Helprin, even though this is only the second work I’ve read, Freddy & Fredericka being the first, his way with the English language is so astoundingly impressive, it leaves me gasping.  If I could ever be a writer, I would consider Helprin my muse.  The words flow from the pages, the images burst forth with such charisma and delicacy that you find yourself there, in that exact moment.  He develops characters with such ease and compassion you’d surely think he was writing of his own mother or father, characters he’d spent decades getting to know and love.  It is hard to write fiction that delivers on so many levels that the individual reading can no longer picture themselves sitting on the couch but instead want to be in the story.

This fiction novel by Helprin is multi-generational, some characters float from the past into the future, impossible I told myself and yet, I couldn’t look away.  Peter Lake is the main character of this novel which originally begins in the late 1800’s when New York is really just beginning to beat, still with the violence and poverty but also with the majestic, alluring nature it has in the present.  Peter is one of many characters in the book, at one point I was into at least eight different plots all flowing in different directions but obviously heading face first into the finale.  I don’t want to give much away and the story itself is so sorted that it would take me hours to re-create a description proper enough to do this justice.  I will just say that if you love a man’s ability to make English flow, love characters crafted with precision and compassion, if you enjoy a book that makes you think and love and care, then this is a great book to read.  If you enjoy finality in a book, maybe you’d better stick with mystery novels.

I most certainly see many more trips down Helprin Lane in the years to come.

PS — There is a horse in the story for all you race fans, you may not always like the scenes having to do with other horses in the story, but you’ll like this horse.

Friday Introspection

My wife said something this morning and I’m totally paraphrasing, “Don’t let your past become our present” — I’m paraphrasing not because I wasn’t paying attention but because I’m no recorder.  When she first said it, I got miffed, I’ll be honest.  I thought about how my past has molded me into the person I am, which is at times both good and bad.  I mainly got miffed because she was right, I sometimes allow my past to be my present and moreover, our present.

So I have to think, why is it that I hold onto my past?  In a lot of ways, I’m really proud of some troubles I had, eventually overcame and it helps me to talk through them because well, it reminds me I don’t want to go back.  Unfortunately I let my past dictate my behavior in several other ways, as far as food choices, laziness, etc.  I spent so long living this narrow-minded selfish existence that I’m so worried I’ll fall back into it, I have to pound out the words and stories because it reminds me of how ridiculous I was at times.  I don’t want it to become a thing of, ‘allow me to share another war story, an adventure from my previous life.’  My real trouble in the past was, my egocentric thinking… it was all about me.  I want this; I don’t want to do that; get out of MY way, and so on until I had become this massive ball of ’self’ — completely void of other’s considerations, love and stresses I was leaving in my wake.  It is a really hard thing to type this out because I guess I’ve known it for a couple years now, I just haven’t brought it out.

So I’m hoping in the days, weeks, months and years to come, I will work toward the destruction of ’self’.  The idea that I am what its all about right now, that the people in traffic aren’t holding ME up; the guy who cuts ME off on my drive to work may be in an emergency situation; the lady in front of ME  in the line at the supermarket digging through her purse could be spending her days caring for a dying spouse.  I am just me and I am fallible, that doesn’t mean I need to sit down and just stop caring, processing and being considerate.  It means that I need to slow down, I need to have grace for others around me, I need to stop living in what wasn’t a great past and move fully and presently into my new marriage, to not get angry every time some guy cuts me off, to not get frustrated at the lady who can’t find her wallet because I don’t know what their struggle is.  Because right now, my past thinking is getting in the way of my productivity, food choices and interaction with the public and it. has. to. stop.

So to those I love and those I don’t even know, I apologize for being selfish.  I will do my best to consider ‘you’ before I consider ‘me’.

Book list… so far.

Soooo, I resolved to read more books, twenty-six new ones to be exact — I figure finishing those I’ve started counts too, and if you disagree  =P .  I thought I would give you a rundown of those that are already on my list and maybe, just maybe..  someone out there reading this will suggest another book.  But if not, that’s cool too.  Regardless, I have heaps of books sitting on shelves that have yet to be devoured…  aside from a couple, most of these are just sitting on the bookshelf waiting for moi.

1) Winter’s Tale — Mark Helprin (I just need to finish this one, I’m a little less than halfway through… Helprin is stunner as usual.)
2) To Skin a Cat — Thomas McGuane (On loan from one, Bret Foster.  So far, I’m about 30 pages in and digging it.  It is a book of short stories, so should be easily demolished.  We both share a love for McGuane, apparently.  Thanks again, Bret.)
3) Norwegian Wood — Haruki Murakami (Well, no surprise here… easily my favorite author of 2009, I’m rolling the dice and taking another chance in 2010.  I don’t even have to worry with Murakami.)
4) The Zombie Survival Guide — Max Brooks (Got another book on this list on loan from Mark Bennett.  We got to talking one day and he expressed an interest in the book, World War Z also by Max Brooks.  I had been meaning to read it, picked it up and slammed it down..  it was demolished.  But I got to thinking, I need to know the bee’s knees just in case a Zombie pandemic breaks out, 2010 is the year I hone my survival skills.)
5) The History of Love — Nicole Krauss (I really just need to finish this, I’m already close to halfway through… I just had to put it down there for awhile because it wasn’t jiving with my life at the moment.  I’m going to finish it in 2010 whether I like it or not.)
6) The Last Samurai — Helen DeWitt (Not the book about the movie.  At 544 pages, aside from the finishing of Winter’s Tale, this is the first big read of the list.)
7) The Book of Laughter and Forgetting — Milan Kundera (Picked this up via many online recommendations.  I’ve been really curious to see what all the fuss is about.)
8) Blue Highways: A Journey into America — William Least Heat-Moon (Picked this one up after reading Walk Across America by Peter Jenkins & Roastbeef’s Promise by David Jerome, kind of vowed to read one travel ‘journal’ a year, if not two.  But I’ve just about read one to two every year for the last ten or so.)
9) Half Asleep in Frog Pajamas — Tom Robbins (I love Tom Robbins… his work is so cut & dry with a particular fluidity reserved for madmen, it’s great.)
10) Travels with Charley — John Steinbeck (Bought it awhile back, figured I’d give it a roll.  So, I lied..  two travel journals.)
11) Catch-22 — Joseph Heller (I’ve never read it or thought about reading it, but it is a ‘classic’ and therefore, I need to see what all the fuss is about.)
12) The Great Gatsby — F. Scott Fitzgerald (Another one of those classics I’ve never read..  the shame! I know, I know.)
13)  The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay — Michael Chabon (I hear good things but I will not be afraid to abandon this book… first time I’ve said that with such certainty.  I will NOT force it.)
14) What is the What — Dave Eggers (I’ll close with this one… I’ve seen it around a few places and therefore must read it.)

15-26… not yet decided.  And most certainly don’t take my word on the order of this list or the validity.  I would definitely LOVE to read at least twelve of these fourteen, there a couple I’m weary of…  I shall let you know how it goes.  First things first, I just need to find some more time for reading.

Take care of yourselves.

Year in review…

Hey You:

I’m sure you could agree, this year has been a wild ride.  It has been both exciting and transitional in very many ways…  as a country, we got a new president.  As a UK fan, we got a new coach.  As a man(?), I got a new bride.  These are just some of the initial ‘new things’ that stick out in my mind.

I would like to say I’ve grown by leaps and bounds but maybe I’ll save that comment for when I’m in my seventies.  I believe I am only capable of growth in small steps, no exceptional jumps in growth for me.  I always settle for small growths in maturity, character and flexibility in both love and life.

This year between May and October, I have gotten engaged and married.  Two years ago I could not have imagined I would be writing those words but now, they make me very happy.  It has been an interesting transition, no matter the number of pre-marital counseling classes you take, books you read or conversations you have, NOTHING prepares you for game time.  When at the end of the day, you sit down to dinner with a very special person and realize that this is it, you are dining with your wife, closest friend and one day, mother of your children.  I went into it thinking it would be a breeze and ya know — aside from very small hurdles in the getting to know how each other live area — she has made it one of the easiest things I’ve had to do.  She likes to keep a clean house, create amazing dinners, make me laugh daily and I never question at the end of the day whether I made the right decision.

So, final reflections of the last year (because I know y’all are on the edge of your seats), it has been a great year.  Picking up a new bride and taking some good trips, one of my best friends had a beautiful baby girl, mom’s knee and my uncle’s heart are both better, I officially got some new & amazing family, to making new friends and improving on old friendships, a basketball coach who knows up from down and finally, good health and fortune on most all fronts.  I have much to be thankful for and forget to count my blessings.  I have had some rough years in the past but consider this one very blessed  — maybe because I behaved myself…?  Nah, that couldn’t be it.

Six resolutions for 2010 (because five is too few, apparently):

1) Give more love & know my blessings (I definitely need to grow in this area; give more to those I know and especially those I don’t.)
2) Take the wife to NYC.
3) Learn a new skill — Whether its Spanish, basket weaving or cooking.
4) Read more.  — My goal is 26 books.
5) Eat better — Not only health-wise but environmentally friendly, more free range and loads of fresh produce.
6) Spend more time reflecting; just sit and think.

Hope you’ve had a blessed year and may you enjoy a fruitful and healthy, exciting 2010.

All my best,
With love,
LC

Throwback Tuesday

Hey, Reader.  How are ya?  That’s good, glad to hear things are well.  I’m actually writing this to share a passage with you, from a book you may or may not like.  Tisn’t the most breathtaking of novels, isn’t designed to even affect groups outside of elementary/middle schools but I saw this passage and I thought it perfection.  Perfection for how I want to live and what sort of people I want to have around me.  Without further ado:

“You have been my friend,” replied Charlotte.
“That in itself is a tremendous thing.
I wove my webs for you because I liked you.
After all, what’s a life, anyway?
We’re born, we live a little while, we die…
By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle.
Heavens knows anyone’s life can stand a little of that.”
– Charlotte’s Web, E.B. White

Now, I’m no Rhodes Scholar but I do know a finely written passage when I see it and when this crossed my path this morning, I. saw. pure. perfection.

Couldn’t pass it up..

I was reading this morning — I know, the shame!, right? — and came across this capture from an Erma Bombeck column entitled “If I Had My Life to Live Over Again.”  Erma writes:

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the
carpet was stained and the sofa faded.  I would have
sat on the lawn with my children and not worried
about grass stains.  I would never have bought anything
just because it was practical, wouldn’t show soil or was
guaranteed to last a lifetime.  When my child kissed me
impetuously, I would never have said, “Later.  Now get
washed up for dinner.”  There would have been more I
love yous, more I’m sorrys, but mostly, given another
shot at life, I would seize every minute, look at it and
really see it, live it, and never give it back.

Yup, if we’ve read or heard something like that ten times, we’ve heard it a thousand.  Just found it to be especially refreshing today.  I am getting ready to head out camping and there is a grand ol’ chance of rain, so I’ll probably get wet, but ya know?  I’m going to try and seize the moments of being wet, being out of doors, out from behind my desk, etc…  wish me luck.  This is where I mumble, “G’luck” to myself since I’m the only one who will actually see/read this.

If you do happen to read this, I hope you have a wonderful day!  — oh yea, and know that I love you.

Soooo, yea….

Man, I have been in a rut.  I need to write, read, exercise and eat better.  Why is it so difficult to eat well and move more?  I can do one or the other.  I kid you not;  I could be eating great, healthy and lean meals filled with the right amount of fat, fiber.  Getting all my veggies and fruits and yet, I have no desire to move.  Then, I start running in the early mornings, riding my bike to work and hitting the gym and when I sit down to eat, my mind thinks:  ‘Mmmm… meat, french fries, soda, cookies, french fries, ice cream, french fries.’  There must be something wrong with me.  Maybe I’m broken…?   No, it can’t be that.  I guess it is just where I’ve conditioned myself for so long to be out of shape, I can’t seem to grasp the concept of getting in shape.  Why would I want to walk around without my knees and ankles hurting?  Why would I want to not have this shortness of breath?  It would make too much sense to wholly want a healthy well-being.  All I know is, this two weeks on of working toward health and then two weeks of working toward my total destruction just isn’t cutting it.  I tell myself:  ‘Just have the cheeseburger and french fries this meal and you can turn it all around the next one.’  — what a joke.  I work hard and eat well for a couple weeks and then within the span of three to four meals completely void any sort of hard work and eating right that has been accomplished over a couple-few week period.  What an awful cycle I’ve gotten myself into.  The worst bit is, it makes me feel bad.  I feel sluggish and worthless.  I actually make myself feel this way, I know when I sit down to eat that I’m going to feel bad after I inhale a burger and fries and yet, without a hint of irony, curse myself after I’ve sucked them down in a fashion that would only be quicker were they liquid and I had a two-inch wide straw .  When I eat a salad filled with greens, fresh veggies, lite dressing and eat it slowly and purposefully, I feel great!  So why do I run back to the grease, high calories and sludge?  Beats me.  If anyone knows, please let me know.  Soooo, yea…. the pity party is happening right now, and please don’t forget to bring your favorite greasy dish…

In other news:  I aim to start writing a book.  Yes, I’m sure it will be heavily read — like, I doubt my Mom would even read it, that heavily read.  I toyed around with a few different concepts, different angles, periods in time and so forth.  I came up with a really good idea but I swear I’ve read it before.  So, I’m scared to start it because I’m thinking that maybe it is just a manifestation of several books I’ve read before, just drawing bits and pieces because they exist in my memory.  Is it my memory though or is it something creative?  Did I create this character and his adventures or did I compile this fella and his life from things I’ve read before?  Are any books ever original these days or is it just a compiled hand me down from works previous?  We read them and think, how conveniently close to home that hit…  well, it may be the fact that we’ve read it so many times before by different authors.  Maybe they just change their style but the story is done over and over again.  So, I’m scared to begin writing.  I’ve got my first line and I will share it with you here:

“Well, shoot fire.”  This was all I could muster as my cane hit the kitchen floor for the fourth time since 8 A.M. and it was all of 8:09, I knew it was going to be a long day.

Riveting, I know.  I have the ideas floating, the stories of this man and the coziness of it is developing in my head and yet, I’m afraid.  I’m afraid to fail, to get thirty pages in and realize that I’m no writer; I have no college degree stating I am proficiently versed in the written word, I am just a guy who eats poorly sometimes and exercises irregularly, I can not write a book.  When one writes a book, when do they know to end?  How do you know if a chapter has drug on or needs more fluff?  When I re-read the line I’d love to begin a book with — the one you see above that until now had not actually been written — I can already see this being a long and arduous process, second guessing myself every line or two.  Alas, I will attempt it, the worst possible conclusion that can be foreseen in my eyes would be another forfeited project and that is just more kindlin’ for the fire I like to regard as, ‘Lewie’s Pile O’ Non-finishes’.  Sooo, yea…. I’m going to get ‘write’ on finishing this book, or at least starting so I can give up…

I’m actually feeling very positive right now, I know I sound like someone who is about to fling themself from the first ledge they come across but I can really assure you, I am in a very good mood and would only jump from the ledge if:  1) it was 60 ft. or less, 2) there was water at the bottom and 3) everyone else was doing it.    Soooo, yea….

Hot Weekend News Update

Soooo, in the hopes that this doesn’t turn too mushy.  At the risk of losing my man card, I will write this.  Guys, forgive me (as if anyone is going to read this)…  I’m a loose cannon these days.

I got myself engaged over the weekend and it was great!  Such a wonderfully simple thing.  I had no nervousness or apprehensions, I felt quite cozy and very much at home as I dropped to my knees and asked the sweet lady to be my dancing partner forever.  She was crying when I went to ask, I wrote her a letter so I’m assuming she was bored to tears or maybe it was kinda sweet, regardless, there were tears  — score.  I showed up with a diamond and no ring which is just typical of me, but in all honesty I knew the ring I wanted and just could not find it.  I looked and looked but without it sitting on her finger, it was nearly impossible.  So I asked her to be my bride and also to help me, as I’ll need her help for the rest of our days, to go and find that ring one more time.  As soon as she placed it back on her ring finger, I knew beyond the shadow of a thousand doubts that we had a lock, it really is her, in a ring — simple and elegant, timeless and beautiful.

She is my best friend, not in a ‘hanging out with my boys’ type way but in a, I’m never scared to be myself.  I have never been scared to be vulnerable and wishful, she completes not complicates my life and when things get rough, we have a simple discourse about the simplest and most effective path we can follow to reach our goal — she is it.  I knew after our first date, — this is truth as I barely slept a wink –   imagining car rides together, going to concerts, sleeping under the stars and rubbing her feet when she is tired.  I told her in a way, not defeatist toward her feminine views that I couldn’t wait til she was barefoot & pregnant — beauty is simple pleasures.  I want to rub her head when she feels ill and be goofy beyond any considerable measure — we have our Sunday afternoon hyper sessions, you could not even imagine a goofiness like this.  When I am with her, I am driven to be the best I can be for her and when we are apart, I am driven to be the best I can for her.  This gal makes me want to laugh and be myself, to shut down the walls and just be me.  At a time I was needing God without fully acknowledging it, she held my hand while we prayed over lunch — she still holds my hand while we pray and still helps me along the path toward knowing God better each day.

She is a thousand different reasons to get married when all I need is one.  We are hardly the same:  she likes to plan and I couldn’t plan a trip to the bathroom; she enjoys singing and I can’t carry a tune with two hands; she is always friendly and sweet and well, I’m not — you get the picture.  But, we are great together because since the very first minute of the very first e-mail, phone call or meet-up, we have communicated.  We let the other know when they are being selfish and unreasonable, we don’t know how to argue so we don’t bottle things up… when it arises, we smash it.  Our biggest argument to date was about Wichita and I’m not even really sure that was an argument or just more of an anecdote that we can share, ‘Remember that time we argued about Wichita… about the weather or going there or something?  Yea, that was awful…’.  We have a bond though in that we both love to help others and we try to remember to consider others above ourselves — we aren’t perfect.  We enjoy just being together, whether its long rides in the car or short walks around the block, at concerts or dinner.  I love where she has come from and where she is going.  I love that she came from such a strong female presence in her Mom, who was a single mother and persevered through some physical shortcomings but an overabundance in love and character to raise such an amazing daughter.  I love her simple style in everything that she does, from clothing to jewelry to decorating and the food she prepares.  I know she will make an amazing Mother and through time, an even better Grandmother because she has come from both.  I love to hear her sing, she has a gift and I only hope our kids get her gift of praise, her eyes and well, my spelling.  She truly is my best friend, I have other best friends that I see from time-to-time and we always just pick up where we left off and it is the same with her as we’ve been a short distance apart over the months we’ve been together.  She is the best friend I want to come home to though, the best friend I want carrying our children and reading to me when I’m tired.  She is the best friend I need, in short.  You never know what you’ve been missing until you find it…  she humors me as I make up words and quote Bible verses that may or may not be in there but could and should be — it is the greatest source of wisdom.  She has never made me feel stupid, only incorrect and fixable.  I’m not setting myself up on some mystical cloud, floating away with my perfect fiance or wife into our perfect life… things are going to be rough, I have no doubts, but I also know that I want no other standing by my side, holding my hand and reminding me that God has the wheel and he loves it when you ride in the backseat and kick your feet up.

As an aside, I give you examples!! These always tug at my heart, so I must share.:  She is lovely and considerate, I knew the first time I watched her hold my grandmother’s hand as she got out of the car that there was no other.  As granny feebly wobbled around looking at flowers, I gazed at her attentiveness not to me or the overall impression she was making but just to my grandmother and helping her gather up flowers.  It was Father’s Day weekend and she was there on my papaw’s last outing before he passed away; she was the same, helpful and graceful, loving and considerate — I don’t tell her enough but that meant more to me and my Mom than any gift the world over, just her attitude as he was quite ill and she never once batted an eyelash.  When I shared the news with granny of the engagement, she simply said, ‘Well, I finally have my granddaughter!’ so I’m assuming she approves quite highly and I could only imagine my papaw would share the feeling.

She is the Faith I need in life, in more ways than one.

Happy Administrative Professionals Day!!  Or, if you happen to be the Earth, congrats go out to you as well I suppose!

Man, I’ve been needing to bust my chops and gnaw on some writing.  Tear into the flesh that is the written word, and most assuredly let down my reader.  I need to write something — like a peep needs its mallow goodness — I’ve ran the course of my numb stage (big ups to TV for helping me ease into that ‘numb’ stage and big props to Jazz for pulling me out).

Now, all I gotta do is figure out how to ‘write’, or ‘type’ as is my case.

I can’t get enough of this jazz…  I’ve been endearing on some jazz for a couple of years now, my musical mood shifts quick-like but I’m always engrossed with Jazz — live or studio, I care none.  Jazz has appealed to me for a number of reasons, most of which I can’t recall right now but I will give you two:  Soul & Musicianship.  Miles Davis performed Kind of Blue in the studio in what is rumored to be one take, ONE TAKE, people.  Miles Davis and six other musicians walked into the studio with little to no practice, no rehearsal and were lacking in the common knowledge of what they were even recording! What is highly regarded (my opinion aside) as one of the greatest, influential and most essential Jazz album or even musical album of all time, supposedly happened in one take.  ‘Mr. Davis, you are ready to roll.’  There was some music. ‘Okay, great! Looks like we’ve got an album; Mr. Davis, please take your drugs, the posse you brought in, your ladies of the evening and get out of here. Thanks.’  Imagine it took three or four takes, say it was upward of ten takes, there was little rehearsal and what you are hearing is the soul & musicianship of seven individuals, different and yet for that moment in time, in complete fluidity.

It is my music for lonely driving (which in a long-distance relationship happens quite frequently:  Hi you..), napping on lazy afternoons, reading & thinking.    Argue or not, I don’t care, but you’ll be hard pressed to find a classier group of musicians anywhere than within the hallowed, massive halls of Jazz.  There are so many free-forms of jazz:  acid jazz, big band, vocal and Latin to name a few; you’ll even find them doing it in Japan, Brazil and India.  There are less colors in the giant sized Crayola box than there are forms of Jazz.  It is a beast unto itself.

A friend of mine and I used to attend this jazz club in Cincinnati from time to time, and one night we got into a discussion with the owner of the club, I asked him what I perceived to be a simple question:  ‘How long have you been into Jazz?’ and he responded, ‘Well, I don’t know what ‘Jazz’ is exactly so I can’t really answer.  But I do like the style and the flow of the music, so you could say that I’ve been trying to live like ‘jazz’ for about four decades.’  I recently stumbled onto this video:

Craziness, I know.  Two fellas wearing suits, playing in front of a bunch of penguins.  Not so much playing as just living, that is style and that is what living jazz means to me.  If you have the means to attend a jazz club, I would highly suggest it, even if jazz isn’t your thing.  It is amazing to sit down and watch folks who lead lives off the stage like regular people, (no pyrotechnics, screaming fans, thrown under-roos) get on the stage and just spill their soul — no huge crowds, typically just 10-30 people sitting around grooving in their chairs.  Some gent or lass (whichever the case may be) who has been sitting next to you for fifteen minutes while you are wondering who is even going to play, meanders up to the stage like a person with nothing better to do on a Saturday night and proceeds to blow. your. mind. for a good three hours.

I promised myself I wasn’t going to write about jazz, I really did.  With the last few weeks being as stressful as they were, I needed something and was glad to have a superb collection of jazz.  I also thank my lovely girlfriend for reminding me of Eva, I hadn’t been listening nearly enough.  This goes out to everyone who sat and read all this, and to the Earth and Secretaries everywhere:

Eva, you are missed  & I’m done.  Thanks.

For you…

This was for you, my apologies if you mind me spreading the words… they are more true each day.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving
– Pablo Neruda

What a verse, it is hard to combat words such as these.  I’d love to say they are vastly my own and that I casually found them swimming in my head and plucked them out for you but alas, I’d be lying.  Who better to say those lines than one of the greatest love artists of any period.   Neruda wore many hats over his lifetime; poet, outlaw, communist… the whole nine.  Of course, those were different times, money hungry oppression in South American countries forced people to grasp for any sort of system that may have helped balance the scales, I digress…

I saw this quote this morning and it just rang, I had to copy & paste, write you a short but hopefully potent e-mail and let you know that all of this is true.  I just love you simply, for all your glorious imperfections, the things people would regard as something to disregard you for, I treasure.  I am steady reminded of the positive impact you have had on my life,  in all the little areas that make the biggest differences.  I could sort through the thousands of different ways you have helped me accept being me over the last fifteen(?) months but I’ll save you the time as you know most of them.  You are just a natural; beautiful, sensual, caring & thoughtful, concerned, unsure & loving, tearful, excited, intelligent & pleasing  –  yes, you are all these things, sometimes all at once and sometimes in halves.  You are imperfect, I’m sure of it, but I have no cares because… well, do I really need a reason?  I love you and see through everything you are, have been through and will go through because I don’t know any other way with you — I don’t care to acknowledge problems because they are just things and things change.  I give you my love, pride-less, I want nothing from you but your love and commitment and I hope you’ll accept the same…  I would rather walk alone with nothing forever than to never know a minute of what makes you, you… and that is my simple love.