David
2004-06-24 @ 9:54 a.m.

We were at David's until almost mid-night last night. Another friend of ours from high school came over with her three month old twins and it was so sweet to see David with all the kids.

He's wonderful with them. Clumsy and sweet, like a lot of big men are with little babies.

He played with Emma, in an effort to wear her out, in exchange she wore him to the bone. But he never gave in, continued to play even though exhaustion was clearly showing on his face.

Our mutual friend left just after 11 and when David came back from walking her to the car he took my hand in his and held it while we talked. It was a sweet feeling, the way he looks at me and grins. Even when other people are around, he smiles at me, and while others may not see it, we both know what it means.

He has four smiles. One for people he knows are bull shitting him. One for family and close friends. One for children. And one for me.

The one for me slips slightly up on the left corner of his mouth. It reaches his eyes, and they shine crystaline. He looks me deep in the eyes, unblinking until I break his stare. The one for me is one of years gone by. Of seeing how much we've grown up over the past 20 something years of knowing one another. The one for me reflects family, our grandparents, old stories our grandmothers told, and the bond we have with one anothers parents.

We know one anothers stories. We know that Ruby, his nana, makes the best cinnamon rolls. We know that Nanette, my nana, makes the best brownies. We remember telling Ruby that we were going to the basement to play cards, when we were really going to sneak off and fool around. (Lord we played a lot of Gin..... lol)

I've been thinking of all the things forthcoming this summer and it stirs memories of past years. He and I haven't shared a summer since eigth grade. I remember that fourth of July so vividly. I remember the button fly denim shorts I was wearing, I remember the blue "lucky" brand shirt, my hair up in a pony tail, brown leather sandals. I remember feeling beautiful, but only because he'd told me that I was that night.

I remember later that summer getting caught fooling around by this overly strict mother. She walked out of the room screaming that we needed to come watch a movie with her. The movie was "Philidelphia" with Tom Hanks. I guess it was her way of showing her dissaproval. We both slept through the entire movie. She still thinks to this day that we learned a profound lesson from it.

There's so much more. I could fill a book. And maybe one day I will. I'll find old pictures, old love notes, old scraps of our lifetime passed and place the between pages as something for us to hold and remember.

Until then, I'm happy. Truely happy, in the gentle hands of this utterly amazing man......