Happy Anniversary.... late
To Mr. Morgan. (no he does not read this)
3 years man. 3 not counting the period when I was fresh ass and all my idiosyncracies seemed cute, and not something you counted on buying with the cow.
I thank you for being patient, damn near always, to a point that I want to stab you in the foot just to see if you are actually human and not a robot. I know I am a severe pain in the ass to deal with, let alone share a home with. I mentioned at work today that we both forgot our anniversary and a co-worker prompted it was a good way to get in on some gifts. I replied to her that my gift was not living on the street as co-existing with me is ten fold working with me and she went into a laughter that, well babe, it did give me a moment of pause that made me wonder if I really am all that bad. She did hurt my feelings with that, and I guess I project myself in a way I didn't think I did. Although sometimes you make fun of me, which everyone should a little, you don't ever give me a mocking look as though I am stupid and you don't condescend to me unless I need it, which sometimes I do because I am a bit naive. and I appreciate that you put your cards on the table when you are upset about something instead of letting it fester into divorce paper type of thing.
I think a lot of how enamored with me you were when we met, how you went apeshit over my art, and how funny you thought I was in words. Time will change that in any relationship, in the sense that it's not expressed as often, but you do still look in on me sometimes when I draw, and tell me it's pretty or whatever word you pick. That's nice.
I like that you don't make a big deal about food, my food, and when I do rarely cook and feed you that you eat every bite with a gracious smile, smacking lips with cheeks full of cheap boxed made food.
I know that I have enough fucked-uped-ness for five people, mental and physical, and I love that you just accept that. I love that when people in droves at your company picnic asked about my foot because I had to be piggy-backed in through the sand all wrapped up, that you knew I was exhausted telling people, and you simply announced to everyone that I got mouthy and you had to stomp me into silence, and they stopped asking.
And lastly, I appreciate that you don't leave me on the pot because I don't have the foresight to make sure I have paper before I plop my ass down, and still go and get me a roll, without laughing or letting me linger there for a while to learn a lesson.
You are my honey and my moon, and if you weren't real I WOULD make you up right now. I love you, here's to one more babe.
-DM
3 years man. 3 not counting the period when I was fresh ass and all my idiosyncracies seemed cute, and not something you counted on buying with the cow.
I thank you for being patient, damn near always, to a point that I want to stab you in the foot just to see if you are actually human and not a robot. I know I am a severe pain in the ass to deal with, let alone share a home with. I mentioned at work today that we both forgot our anniversary and a co-worker prompted it was a good way to get in on some gifts. I replied to her that my gift was not living on the street as co-existing with me is ten fold working with me and she went into a laughter that, well babe, it did give me a moment of pause that made me wonder if I really am all that bad. She did hurt my feelings with that, and I guess I project myself in a way I didn't think I did. Although sometimes you make fun of me, which everyone should a little, you don't ever give me a mocking look as though I am stupid and you don't condescend to me unless I need it, which sometimes I do because I am a bit naive. and I appreciate that you put your cards on the table when you are upset about something instead of letting it fester into divorce paper type of thing.
I think a lot of how enamored with me you were when we met, how you went apeshit over my art, and how funny you thought I was in words. Time will change that in any relationship, in the sense that it's not expressed as often, but you do still look in on me sometimes when I draw, and tell me it's pretty or whatever word you pick. That's nice.
I like that you don't make a big deal about food, my food, and when I do rarely cook and feed you that you eat every bite with a gracious smile, smacking lips with cheeks full of cheap boxed made food.
I know that I have enough fucked-uped-ness for five people, mental and physical, and I love that you just accept that. I love that when people in droves at your company picnic asked about my foot because I had to be piggy-backed in through the sand all wrapped up, that you knew I was exhausted telling people, and you simply announced to everyone that I got mouthy and you had to stomp me into silence, and they stopped asking.
And lastly, I appreciate that you don't leave me on the pot because I don't have the foresight to make sure I have paper before I plop my ass down, and still go and get me a roll, without laughing or letting me linger there for a while to learn a lesson.
You are my honey and my moon, and if you weren't real I WOULD make you up right now. I love you, here's to one more babe.
-DM
posted by DMorgan's Zoo at
7:46 PM
5 Comments:
:wipes a tear:
How touching.
Ahhh my brother is so lucky to have you. Thanks for the tears.
Absolutely beautiful. (and yes, me too w/the tears.)
Tanks! I emailed him that segment, as he just doesnt get to read my blog, because frankly this is my stomping grounds, but he returned in about a half hour with a poem, written on what I would guess is the packaging to something he bought. I will likely take that photo eventually and post. He read the poem to me like a 3rd grader on stage, it was quite wonderful.
This is beautiful and (of course) has me teary...but in a good way. I want someone to love me like this. You are both very blessed. Happy Anniversary.
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