Dreamers help others' dreams come true

It's the least I can do. Really. The very least.

Sam has given me all of my dreams lately. He has set aside all the women from his past...which should have been a given from the start. Hey, better late than never. He has made it possible for me to stay home and write while helping his grow the business. He is talking wedding in Key West when the work slows down. We're remodeling the bathroom and doing other projects around the house to make it a nicer living environment. We bought a sailboat because it was my dream. We're planning a cruise this winter.

And what does he want in return?

Really not much. He wanted to buy a friend's Civic so that he could fix it up and we'd have a car, a truck, and an SUV. He wanted a fun project for him. Since he works on houses for a living, fixing ours isn't fun. I get that.

So, he bought it over the weekend. It was stupid cheap. I can't complain.

He wants to get a new tattoo, Celtic. I saw the design he wants. It's cool. And tattoos are him. One day I will get the dragon fly I have been wanting. I don't want it until I lose some weight.

So, we'll get him his tattoo in the near future.

And, even though he hasn't said it, I know he'd like to see me at my ideal weight. I'd like to see me there, too. I just haven't been so motivated to do it. Only now, the more I think about it, the more reasons I have.

Take pictures, for one. There will be wedding pictures. And there will be publicity pictures. I have a really old picture attached to my Twitter and Facebook and Amazon...well, you get the idea. It's me three years ago. Safe to say it's a shade different than I look today. Especially the hair color.

And I want to look good on film. I don't want to be shocked by my appearance. I don't want to be ashamed to display the family photos or share them with those i love. So, I need to lose weight for that reason.

Of course, there's my health. If I can get in that preferred weight zone, I'll feel better. I'll be healthier. I'll decrease my chances of dying from a heart attack or heart disease or any of that yucky stuff. And I'll increase my chances of passing quietly in my sleep at some ripe old age instead.

Sam loves buying me clothes and making me look pretty. At the same time, I don't want to spend money on clothes and try on clothes when I'm frustrated with my size. While black is slimming, I could be in danger of looking a bit emo if I'm not careful.

It's all those things. I have to love new clothes and being healthy, and looking good more than I love food. And that's the problem. I haven't. What I do love more than food...Sam. And I want him to be proud to have me on his arm and in his bed and sharing his life. I'm going to do this for me and for him and for all the many valid reasons.

Time to give back to one who has given me so much. It's the least this dreamer can do.