Today Keith turned thirty three.
I got up at four thirty in order to cook him breakfast. He is addicted to these egg muffin sandwiches that I make. I'm not sure where the attraction lies, but it was his birthday so I did not mind dragging my butt out of bed to make them.
Afterward, however, I went right back to bed and listened to him as he got ready to go to work. Eventually, a broad shouldered staff sergeant in uniform took up the entire doorway and then crawled onto the bed and took me into his arms and covered my face with kisses.
"Happy thirty three to you," I told him.
"You are such a good woman," he said softly. "You are the best gift any man could want. And maybe when I get home, I'll unwrap you."
I've made a new friend, though this very blog, and I have been in the process of telling her all about my life, which takes some doing. I have had quite a life.
Going over it- all the decisions I made, the places I went, the people that I loved- it has been at times painful. I cried a couple of times.
Sometimes I had to get up from the computer and walk away. Some nights I have stayed awake for hours, trying to remember why I did that or felt that way.
And all the while, there is Keith and my present life. I just have no idea how I found my way here, but I'm incredibly grateful that I have.
