March 27, 2010
And yet, I’ve never duplicated the joy I found with you in the hayloft of that rickety barn.
I didn’t realize God had leaned out of the sky and kissed me fully on the lips when he led me to that farm.
I can still smell the trees outside, feel the straw, hear the first of the evening crickets, see the pretty horses. You’re there with your camera, your untamed blonde hair and that smile of yours that was dreamed up in God’s mind a trillion years ago.
My Midwestern country girl.
There is no more sacred place in my heart than the one you occupy: The first girl I loved.
Tell me, what sort of diamond-burst energy do we share when twenty years later we’re still falling into each other’s eyes?