my lover is a deer, her gait is cruel

Sometimes you forget.
You forget exactly what it was that made you fall in love.
It is easy to fall in a rut, which sounds painful….big freaking rut.
Mortgage, kids lunches, rides, insurance, sometimes it seems like a business partnership with the occasional late night groping thrown in…(actually, that sounds like elany arts….jk)
You might lose the spark, or better put it becomes a bit of a charcoal, simmering, almost forgotten, only noticed when it goes out.
S. and I recently took a trip to Germany which as many of you know is something of a second home to me and my friends. To quotes a great philosopher and artist, “We are something of a big deal around here.”
S. often complained bitterly about being the one at home while I toured the world, hobnobbed with the social elite, debated cutlery with royalty. The reality of course was something a bit different. Once I took a crap on the side of a building in Leeds, England, huddled in the shadows, cowering like a dog because nothing was open when something tripped the floodlights and I was exposed for all the world to see and to mock.
It was there that I saw my lover through my nineteen year old eyes, bright, smiling, first one dancing and last one up. She lived life like thirsty man drank, gulping, gasping, eyes wide open.
When I write my memoirs I think I will point to this trip as one of the greatest weeks of my, dare I say it, our lives. Thank you for that Robert. Thank you for that, S.