The Tired Man

His hoarse voice and tender muscles, limp with remorse after a day well worked. This man with flaws, became my all. Through his demeanor, I can see it no clearer, the woman in his gaze will be held even deeper. This is well noted, with love and care. I, that woman, will not love in despair. Because everything he does, he does it for me, the woman he sees, the woman he holds. The best woman I could ever be, to a man who’s only given his best to me. I love you.


PS: Sometimes your muse is the very thing that has gotten you through thick and thin. Being surrounded by the Pacific Ocean and living on tiny rocks, what more could a writer ask for? That is what more does a DREAMING writer need to get started? I asked myself that question, millions of times. I thought if I traveled, tried new things, jump off cliff, boat rides, whale watching, EVERYTHING – I’d get my grove back. Ironically it was the last thing I thought I needed, love. Now not that sick puppy sugar high inducing kind of love, but a tough raw natural love. I’m even writing this while he’s asleep and I can’t help but to think how lucky I am, and even when I say this in his face he flat-out tells me it’s the other way around. I’m not saying we’re the perfect couple or we never argued. In fact there were a few close times it came close to ending. However he fought for us, I fought for us, WE fought for us – and we work 🙂 He picks me up when I am down, and he talks to me to cheer himself up. He is not the only one to help me want to follow my dream again, but with the foundation he help me build within myself – I feel like I can do it.

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