Scrolling through my feed on Facebook, I find a picture that my mother shared; an old family photo, with me, my sister, my Pépère, and aunt and uncle.
He has seen it and liked it. It's the little things, like that. It seems small but I'm important enough to him that he is friends with my mother on social media AND he pays attention to these smaller memories.
We are so close and so much a part of each other now, it's hard to start at the beginning.
I miss him when I close my eyes.
I laugh when I think about how we actually first started flirting. We threw rocks at each other in the water at the beach. One pebble made it home in my bikini. I still have it.
We've been together for over a year, minus one "hiccup".
I was with him with the full knowledge that he still had feelings for his ex. (She is the mother of two of his kids and was pregnant with the youngest during the hiccup... Baby mama drama!) He wanted to be with his kids, understandably so. I very nearly gave up on him entirely. That was until I observed how she treated him.
This amazing man... already had been through some shitty situations. I will leave it at that. My heart would not let me abandon him.
Let's just say he has been so broken and hurt but he has finally allowed himself to open his heart to me.
I never really considered myself a fallback plan or second choice. I made a decision to be his friend first. To love him without conditions. To make sure that every moment he spent with me was easy and enjoyable and safe. I know my worth. I know what I bring to the table... And that man deserves me.
I became "The woman that makes (him) happy".
Now ... I'm the woman he loves. He tells me all the time and I don't want a day to go by that he would ever question how much I appreciate and adore him.
This doesn't really scratch the surface of how I met my Wildman, though, does it?
Before I start writing the blog on that... Google lighthouse cookie cutter results. Just do it.
