Stupid Question

Why do I love Kevin?

For one, I am so in love with him that this seems like a stupid question. I look at him, and I just want to trace every line of his face, kiss every plane--I feel so lucky--even if when I do this he scrunches up and jerks away. He's a little ticklish I suppose.

Sometimes, I look with normal eyes, unclouded by feelings, and I see how different we are, how different he is from the long-standing ideal I had before we met, and I panic. This can't work! There's no way! We're inevitably going to break up! But the nice thing is when this terror grabs hold, when I start to say these things, Kevin is always there, and I remember why I love him. And that matters a lot.

My parents are divorced. His parents are divorced. In a part of me, it seems easier to give in to that unshakable statistic, then to take a chance on deluding myself for thirteen years. Easier, but, when you get down to it, not better.

Love's not easy. Having someone who knows what counts--not the moods that come and go, or the fears you want to give in to, but the fact that both can be shaken, that we want to shake them--makes everything a little easier. Having someone who is there when life throws snowballs at the spirit's ear like unemployment or writer's block.

I love you, Kevin. I always will.