Recently I have been reading a book made up of short stories. They are awkward, with just enough chapters to get you connected and then you're left out in the cold, the story closed up on paper while your mind moves ahead into the unknown, attempting to bring closure and still wanting more.
In a world full of relational snippets my Evan is no short story. Like all good leads the more I read and allowed myself to join the narrative, the more he developed until one day, with a number of chapters come and gone, there stood a hero on the pages of our lives.
If it was just about those things, I would be the luckiest girl. But I'm not. I'm not lucky. I'm chosen. Chosen by him, cherished and loved. Inspite of myself and the flawed humanity I wear. For some reason, he picked me. Like a reflection of the divine narrative that has wrapped itself around me since birth, this one too is holding true and strong. It is not perfect but he makes it the right one for me. It makes me cringe and catch my breath to think that there are moments I've almost put the book down. Almost gave up because the story had slowed down and I thought I knew what was coming next. I couldn't have been more wrong.
Today I will skip the day that celebrates his arrival in the world. I will fly over it through time zones and land too late to salute him for another year well done. But what is one day when you have so many planned ahead. I only pray that there are more than I dare to hope for. Full of the honesty and love that has bound us thus far because all that he is makes me grateful beyond belief to call him mine and so very happy.
Happy Birthday my love.
0 comments