Back In The Desert

Back from Florida, and it sure is good to be home.

It was nice spending time with my brother and his wife (even though among the things that Santa left in my stocking was Axe Body Wash and Mitchum Anti-Perspirant) (I mean, really? Really??) (Like, we're related, aren't we?).

But I think I might have been a little annoying to spend the holidays with. I spent no small amount of time being a wee bit mopey. And about every other topic of conversation I introduced was about something That Cowboy said or did or that we did together or whatever.

And then there was the night when, standing alone overlooking the retention pond behind my brother's house--which may or may not be home to an alligator--I was moved to tears thinking about how I have never felt about anyone the way I feel about That Cowboy.

For you see, I'm in love.

And I am thankful that that didn't happen with me until my mid-forties. Middle Aged Love is a wonderful thing. You know who you are, all the good stuff as well as all the bad stuff. And you're good at sizing up other people, too. And you've had plenty of experiences of thinking that it was Love knocking at your door only to discover after you rush to open it that it was a vagrant or a trick-or-treater or a process server or someone selling Amway products or someone looking for your upstairs neighbor but definitely not you. When you're in the middle of your journey through life, you just get this peaceful certainty that This Is It It's Finally Here.

And there's no great expectations attached to it. No hopes and dreams to project. Just a nice humble, "So want to do something this weekend?"

And none of the loading down of your beloved with all of those expectations. "I hope he surprises me a romantic weekend away!" Instead, you roll over in bed and cuddle up next to him and feel this sublime joy and appreciation of the simple heft and warmth of his body next to yours. Everything else (That Cowboy took the opportunity to clean out my car while I was in Florida) is gravy.

And it's not about having an arm ornament, although I think we do make a handsome couple. And it's not about showing him off like he's some kind of trophy buck you've brought back from the North Woods. And mostly, it's not about what you get out of it. Rather, it's all about an opportunity to give: to give the love that you've been cupping in your hands all these years, safe in the knowledge that this precious gift will be appreciated and cherished and its value will be immediately recognized.

In the past, I've usually done a Year End Wrap Up here on Singletails. And taken time to devise a New Years' Resolution for myself. Not sure that I'll be doing that this year. I'm having a hard time remembering the details of last month, let alone the last twelve of them. And the future means tonight, when I'll head over to That Cowboy's place, just across the Wash, and we'll exchange presents. It's all about the Right Now for me. Who knows what the future holds, and the past is just a meditation whereby we might discern the working of God's hand guiding us.

And now, I'm off to see what I got for Christmas. And I can't wait to give That Cowboy the gifts I got (and made!) for him.