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On love: Devon, in sleeping and anniversaries; Lyz, in gifts; Madison, in cuddles.
Yesterday evening after taking a friend out to run errands, Devon and I fell asleep together. Just a nap, but a rare occurrence nonetheless because our sleep cycles don't mesh these days and I always have problems sharing a bed (and when I say "I" have problems, I mean: my back). But this time I was lying away from him, tucked under his arm and sharing a blanket, my back curled warm against his side, my legs around my body pillow as is necessary, and it didn't hurt. We drifted in and out of sleep together for an hour and a half, warm and drowsy and comfortable, and it was lovely.
Things with Dev have been wonderful, lately. We're years past any glimpse of a honeymoon period, the two of us—we just had our seventh anniversary a few days ago. But it feels like (have I said this before? not on LJ, I don't think) that we've finally repaired all the damage that my depression did to our relationship, back when it was at its worst and I was literally falling to pieces. Devon has been my biggest champion through all of my problems, but they were still a huge burden and harm. But I'm in a better place now, time has passed, and we're back to who we were, as a couple; we're back to who we should be. We're not perfect—but then I wouldn't want that. What I want is what I have: we love, we enjoy each other, we often talk for hours, we want to please each other, we find each other pleasing, we make love and bicker and hang out; we are love, together.
Early today I was woken by a knock at the bedroom door and a package from Lyz (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sisterite) waiting outside it: a copy of Genesis by Bernard Beckett (which I've read but never reviewed), The Red Tree by Caitlín R. Kiernan (which I have anticipated eagerly, and which shall be the next book I read), and a wonderful jar of paper stars—like these guys which I've been known to make, only smaller and pastel and just adorable. Thank you, Lyz! And I shall reply to the letter soon, via real mail or email or whatever. I think it's a crazy coincidence that I've already read Genesis, but it's a quick and unique little book, so in the very least I can reread and actually review it this time. But oh, my fingers are already itching for The Red Tree. You are amazing.
(For a late approximation of the holidays, I sent Lyz a copy of my beloved Maledicte by Lane Robins and pretty much my entire BPAL reject pile—about 50 imps, a few sniffies, and a bottle—enough to keep her in smellies for a while, methinks. I certainly wasn't expecting a return gift so quickly, but I am thrilled to receive it because I mean, seriously: books.)
Today after the whole house was asleep, I took my current book (The Burning Girl by Holly Phillips, which is a lovely reread) out into the living room for cool air and breathing space and privacy. Both cats were out there, so I dolled out a few cuddles before lying back onto the couch right beside the table where Madison was sleeping. After a few minutes, Maddy stepped delicately onto my lap, walked up to my chest/shoulder, and laid herself down. For my whole reading time—nearly two hours—Madison stayed with me kneading and suckling my blanket while I pet her with one hand and held my book with the other. There are fewer things better than a comfortable seat, a good book, and a cat as cute as this combined into one moment. Sometimes I could feel the rumble of her purr travel all the way down to my belly.
Love, my friends, is beautiful.
Things with Dev have been wonderful, lately. We're years past any glimpse of a honeymoon period, the two of us—we just had our seventh anniversary a few days ago. But it feels like (have I said this before? not on LJ, I don't think) that we've finally repaired all the damage that my depression did to our relationship, back when it was at its worst and I was literally falling to pieces. Devon has been my biggest champion through all of my problems, but they were still a huge burden and harm. But I'm in a better place now, time has passed, and we're back to who we were, as a couple; we're back to who we should be. We're not perfect—but then I wouldn't want that. What I want is what I have: we love, we enjoy each other, we often talk for hours, we want to please each other, we find each other pleasing, we make love and bicker and hang out; we are love, together.
Early today I was woken by a knock at the bedroom door and a package from Lyz (
sisterite) waiting outside it: a copy of Genesis by Bernard Beckett (which I've read but never reviewed), The Red Tree by Caitlín R. Kiernan (which I have anticipated eagerly, and which shall be the next book I read), and a wonderful jar of paper stars—like these guys which I've been known to make, only smaller and pastel and just adorable. Thank you, Lyz! And I shall reply to the letter soon, via real mail or email or whatever. I think it's a crazy coincidence that I've already read Genesis, but it's a quick and unique little book, so in the very least I can reread and actually review it this time. But oh, my fingers are already itching for The Red Tree. You are amazing.(For a late approximation of the holidays, I sent Lyz a copy of my beloved Maledicte by Lane Robins and pretty much my entire BPAL reject pile—about 50 imps, a few sniffies, and a bottle—enough to keep her in smellies for a while, methinks. I certainly wasn't expecting a return gift so quickly, but I am thrilled to receive it because I mean, seriously: books.)
Today after the whole house was asleep, I took my current book (The Burning Girl by Holly Phillips, which is a lovely reread) out into the living room for cool air and breathing space and privacy. Both cats were out there, so I dolled out a few cuddles before lying back onto the couch right beside the table where Madison was sleeping. After a few minutes, Maddy stepped delicately onto my lap, walked up to my chest/shoulder, and laid herself down. For my whole reading time—nearly two hours—Madison stayed with me kneading and suckling my blanket while I pet her with one hand and held my book with the other. There are fewer things better than a comfortable seat, a good book, and a cat as cute as this combined into one moment. Sometimes I could feel the rumble of her purr travel all the way down to my belly.
Love, my friends, is beautiful.