He Keeps Me Grounded
Matt grunts. I take this as agreement and plow ahead.
"Something symbolic. Something meaningful. Something that we can look back on and say, 'yeah, that was the perfect way to commemorate our love.'"
Matt is silent. His eyes are closed. It's the end of long day. It occurs to me that I may have picked the wrong time to brainstorm about our ten year anniversary.
"Know what I mean?" I say, prodding him.
With eyes still closed, Matt begins speaking in a serious voice:
"How about I drop you off at the south end of Huntington Beach and I drive myself up to the north end. Then we walk towards each other at sunset. The sheer anticipation of meeting each other would be hugely symbolic, don't you think?"
I'm actually calculating how long such a walk would take..at least three hours?...when Matt chuckles.
I burst into outraged laughter. The blasted wretch is mocking me!
But then I can't help it and I'm laughing with him. Because if it weren't for him constantly bringing me back to reality, I would be floating around in fairy costumes composing poetry, writing sonnets, making up songs and utterly ignoring the laundry.
"Don't worry," he says. "I haven't forgotten that you've put up with me for ten years or that you've borne our 5 children. And that is a big deal."