Dear birthday girl,
It’s funny, I think, that most times you turn to me and ask me what I’m thinking about I say ‘nothing.’ Your response is always the same logical jab back at me: “You can’t think about nothing.” It’s one I’ve come to find so endearing that I may have faked it a time or two just so I can hear you say those words. No, I guess you’re right; I can’t really think about absolutely nothing. I am a guy, so odds are I’m thinking about something stupid, which, in my language, by the way, is translated as cool.
But if you were to ask me what I was thinking about right now, I’d be empty of the words. Not that I can’t put words down on a page; anyone can do that. It’s about the right words, especially for you, especially here and now.
It’s been seventeen years for us, doll. Seventeen. And the amount of color you’ve blessed my life with is outside the realm of human expression. I want so very much to hold on to the days, the hours, the nano-slivers of time that I have at your side, listening to your laugh, watching your face when you’re thinking, or being next to you when you sleep. Yet the days continue to pass with an almost violent haste, and my feeble attempts at holding on, at slowing them, are a reminder that our physical time together is limited, and all I can do is cherish all that we have.
We get what we get, and nothing more.
This day, on the surface, is one in which loved ones, friends and family alike, present you with gifts, honoring you. Yet, on this day, you give me again the finest gift of my waking life. You are all that I cherish with every climb of the morning sun, every fall of the moon, and every waking second. You are today, as you are all of my days, the ever-developing gift of my world, and the greatest chant of my life’s song.
The thing is, in the end, the words are all that’s left. And that’s I guess what scares me. In the end, what will I have to give you but my words?
Today, right now, as your eyes run over these lines, please know that I am thinking about you, I am honoring you, and I am smiling in the happiness you’ve given me in the gift of yourself.
So, back to what I’m thinking about (and maybe what I’m trying to say). I’m thinking about wishing you a Happy birthday, Kerrie Lynn. And I’m thinking about how thankful I am to you for today, tomorrow, and in all that comes after in all you give to me. Thank you now and always.
…Oh yeah, and you’re really hot.