Echoes.

This weekend was wonderful.
Absolutely wonderful.
Nothing big, nothing fancy.
Lots of walking and talking and just sitting around each other.
No major plan, no major anything.
Just. Having each other around.
Some moments we were bored. Some we were way too entertained. Some we were having ‘discussions’ but in all of it, we were comfortable with one another.

And the smell.
I love the way the man smells – like soap and man and happiness. I can’t explain it any other way than to say he smells like home. I sleep better in his arms for three days than I do in a month on my own.

And even when he wakes up at the BUTT CRACK OF DAWN I still love him – I just love him more when he gets up without trying to talk me into getting up too.

And he amuses me. He’s so focused – such a driven person when compared to my moseying.
We kept walking – miles we walked this weekend, sometimes talking, sometimes not – but he lacks the ability to mosey if the objective in question is to walk.
If he plans to walk he’s going to walk. Very focused on walking. No looking, just walking.
I teased him about this. About smelling the roses and enjoying life.
He laughed.
Said that the day was for walking, not smelling the roses, but when he was assigned the task of taking time to smell the roses, he’s the best damned rose smeller there is.

I like that he can laugh at himself.
There’s something comforting in that – as he couldn’t always.
But he can now.

And when I ask him why he says something pointed, something that doesn’t help, something that just stings a bit but has no useful purpose, he tells me he messed up, that I’m right, that he’s sorry, that it’s one of his least favorite flaws.
He says sometimes he says it because he wants to point out that he was right – but that he’s starting to realize that sometimes it doesn’t matter whether or not he’s right, especially not after the fact.
I like that he can see my side without being defensive.

I love that a little walk to him is 10 miles.
And that I drive him as nuts as he drives me but we’re still happy together.
I love that his body is gorgeous, his mind is sharp, and his character is iron man strong.

And that he doesn’t stare at other chicks in a rude way, but will totally joke with me if I say something first – like about the cycling chick with the massively mountainous boobs that were impossible to NOT stare at.

He complimented me, he wanted me, he touched me, he loved me, he hugged me.
We argued, we irritated, we disagreed, we snapped a little here and there.
And it was just wonderful.

How awesome is it to realize that you have a healthy normal relationship, despite the 3 years of distance… or as healthy and normal as possible with the 3 years of distance?

This is going to be hard – I’m not going to lie. We have a few hills to climb before anything in our lives together levels out.
But if I have to move mountains – I’m definitely going to have the right man beside me helping me push.