Scintillectually Yours

I had been mulling over ideas for a Valentine’s themed HNT. I browsed pink tutus at Hot Topic, checked out heart-covered bikinis at Old Navy, considered a pale pink sweater I own. In the end, I decided that I would put up the last of my Paisley series. This series was taken the night that DPR arrived on her last trip. As a rather spur of the moment decision, she had thrown a bag and her laptop in her truck and started out alone on a 15-hour drive armed with not much more than gas money, Monster energy drinks, and protein bars. She called me throughout Friday night and into Saturday morning. I could hear the weariness in her voice. I worried for her safety. I marveled at her tenacity. I felt every bit of the love that would push her to drive straight through.

On Saturday, around 1:30 pm, I was heading out of the house to get the last of the groceries and there she was, just shutting the trunk of my car. She looked tired and amazing in a Harley patch-covered jean jacket with a hoodie, her hair tousled, her smile lighting up my world. I almost knocked her over as I ran from the porch into her arms, joined by my neighbor and her now butch bff, who got quite caught up in all the excitement. It has been many, many years since I have felt that kind of overwhelming happiness.

After making her a hearty and much-needed lunch, I pushed her off to bed for a few hours of sleep. Her body was twitchy, but her breathing settled and she wrapped her arms around me and we eased into something so comfortable it felt as though we had shared a bed all of our lives. Bless her heart, with all that she’d been through to get there, she cheerfully entertained our neighbors over dinner and some impromptu and fairly hysterical karaoke on my son’s Playstation. I’m sure it was close to 9:30 by the time they took their leave.

I slipped into my paisley babydoll, but she wanted to see my thigh-high suede boots. I ran into the bedroom with DPR hot on my tail and caught my little toe on the doorframe. Let me tell you, vestigial or not, those fuckers HURT when you damn near rip them off. I was brave but boy did I want to cry. That thing was black for days. In the meantime, and like the good doobie that I am, I put on the boots and we returned to the living room where she grabbed the camera. We sat on the sofa and passed it back and forth, framing shots of our body parts together, again, finally. These are some of those shots.

You can imagine what followed. I won’t get into specifics as we’ve agreed not to write about “that which is profane becomes sacred.” But I will tell you this…

I love this woman. I have lived a life moving from one bad choice of a partner to another. I almost fell into a relationship with someone simply because I thought their resumé fit the bill when we had no chemistry whatsoever. DPR is the most intelligent, creative, talented, gentle, caring, kind, generous, funny, outgoing, down-to-earth, passionate, honest human being you could ever hope to meet. All of these many years later, I have finally found the kind of love that some people only dream about. I dreamt it. I never thought I deserved it. She makes me feel deserving. She makes me feel worthy of her love.

Darling, this is the first of many, many Valentine’s celebrations together. I want to thank you for coming into my life again, for keeping a little piece of me within you for 26 years, and for loving me so much that you went to all that trouble to drive so far just to be with me once more. In less than 40 hours, I shall be in your arms. I shall look upon your face. I shall kiss your lips. I shall fold myself into your embrace. I hope to prove myself worthy of your love until the end of our days and then, still again. I love you.

And for the rest of you, don’t forget to visit Osbasso for more HNT goodness.

Happy Valentines and HHNT!