I'm listening

I'm listening to his actions, which speak louder than his words. I'm listening to my heart, that has never steered me wrong. I'm listening to you, who look out for me even from afar.

I hear...the fear. You worry that I forgive too much. You worry that I sell myself short. You worry that he'll never change. You worry that he can't maintain. You worry that he'll simply hurt me again.

All those worries...valid. All of them. All worries I've had myself.

I hear...the hope. Maybe this time he'll figure it out. Maybe this time he'll follow through. Maybe this time he'll realize that it's safe with me...to love, to be loved, to stop holding back. Maybe we really can have everything we want. Maybe.

All those maybes...pieces of hope. I'm feasting on hope.

Most of all...I hear what he's saying with his words and actions. These days, he's talking. He tells me things I already know. He tells me he can't imagine his life with anyone else. He tells me that I'm the only one he lets in, the only one he gives everything to. He tells me that my happiness is the most important thing to him. That's all well and good.

I've heard these things before.

Ah, but then there's his actions. He promised me a swing set so very long ago. I think it was soon after I moved in. In moments of extreme stress, I tend to run to the nearest playground. It is only there that I am able to relax and release. I swing and all is well once more. I am able to function, to think, to move forward, to press on. It's a silly thing, me and swings.

And so he offered to build me a swing set. I didn't ever really expect him to follow through. It's the life of a contractor. They either have time and no money, or money and no time. So time went on and there was no swing. And I never pushed. I had bigger things to worry about than a silly swing.

Then it was Friday. We had just found out the house was saved. He looked at me as we sat on the couch.

Sam: Let's build you that swing set.

me: Okay.

But okay was more like...really?

He told me to design my swing set and decide where to put it. I did. So we went and picked up the lumber. And we picked out the swings. We bought the hardware. We brought it home.

Then Sam and Ed tore down the basketball hoop that was centered right about where the swing set is supposed to go. So far, blood, sweat, and tears. That's right. Sam tore open his calf. Blood was dripping down his leg. It was about 85 degrees and he was covered in sweat. As for the tears...joy. Pure unadulterated joy. He's following through.

Baby steps. One day at a time. Savoring each moment in time. That's what life is all about...relishing the moments.