Love

I thought I would never again have the luxury of falling in love. To be happy, moderately well-rested, semi anxiety free, and falling deeply in love in perfectly beautiful Vermont summer weather is awe-inspiring and wonderful.  "Wonderful" in the real sense of the word, as in full of wonder, and not just a pleasant, and positive emotion. It is new, delicate, tender and intense. And of course, terrifying. 

I still feel like I'm holding back. Having so recently been so broken-hearted that I thought I'd never be able to love anyone other than my dear friends and lovely Gumball, this fresh bloom of emotion makes me experience crazy extremes: love, fear, anger, joy, tenderness and sullen confusion. I often think that E. deserves more. More fun, more careless laughter, more unguarded affection. Less toddler-manipulated scheduling, fewer play dates, dinners later than 5:30pm.

She is so sweet to me, and kind. Lovely and generous. Gentle, sweet, thoughtful. Even better, she is unbelievably kind to my Gumball. Talks to her, plays with her, is loving and affectionate to her, and spends as much time as I do hunting down Monkey, and Baby. Every single time she offers Gumball her water, or gives her a bite of muffin ("mutton"), or tries to make her laugh, my heart melts. Melts.