It's late at night ... the hours when the house is dark and I sit and write and think and pray.
I'm thinking of you. It's not who you'd think. I'm not writing about my mad-passionate-crazy love for those two boys. I'm thinking of you, the man who started it all.
I'd choose you.
After all we have been through, the highs and the lows; the laughter and the tears; some fights and some holding on beyond the words -- I'd choose you.
We were younger together and on the beach with friends. Those were the starting days and we didn't even know it then. We didn't know that this uncommon friendship would light fire and take off as it did. Who knew that I would fall in love with a surfer who thought that black socks and tie-dies were a fashion statement?
Beyond that, beyond your ways and your looks, it is the heart. That heart. And I chose you and I'd do it all over again.
No one makes me laugh like you do. No one makes me feel safe and loved even when I've messed up big like you do. No one treasures me and sees the good like you do. No one cheers me on, holds me near, makes me call this house a home, like you do. No one is my hero like you are. You get up and faithfully head out the door to a job that takes so much of what you have to offer and you do it all for us. You come home drained and find reserves somewhere to be there for the boys, to wash the towels, to take out the trash, to share in our life. You think this is small, but it's bigger than big. Your day to day faithfulness is a monument of manhood. When these boys grow up, I pray they'll be half the man you are.
And, I write about these boys of ours. I pour my love and my life and my heart out all over them, but don't you ever forget that it was you who started this whole thing and you are the one I would choose all over again. You. Just as you are. I'd choose you.
Linking up with Lisa-Jo at Five-Minute-Friday (even though it's Sunday) ...
