leftunspoken's Diaryland Diary

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This man, I love.

This man, who isn't afraid of anything, wrinkles his brow and frowns when I go by myself to get the laundry.
This man, who stands a foot taller than me, goes down on his knees every time I sit on the couch to lay his head in my lap.
This man, who, covered in tattoos and looking menacing, has people automatically walk around him on the street, speaks to me in baby talk and gives me butterfly kisses.
This man, who has lived much of his life in the darkest, most painful of orbits, sends me to dry my hair before tucking me in to bed before his shower, because he's afraid I'll catch cold if I sleep with it wet.
This man, who loves me, comes up behind me, takes the brush and blowdryer from my hands, and does it himself so gently, while I stand there being happy, and blessed, and loving him madly.

10:16 a.m. - January 18, 2005

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