Saturday, February 03, 2007

A Tint of Red

His beard has a tint of red in it, a color that is almost as unique as his voice. And in the winter his beard takes on an even greater tint against his cream colored skin. Over a year, I've grown quite accustomed to this beard, but even more to the face that lies beneath it.

You can almost always predict when we are about to have a reunion. There are usually butterflies, and dancing feet; signs showing up even hours before we lock eyes. Anyone would think by now, a year into a relationship, that those butterflies would've flown away. But they never did. They remain with me, and so does he despite any time or distance.

Between schedule revisions, case studies, and the occasional schoolgirl laugh (I'll never admit to), there are our Christmas-like visits -mornings filled with the smell of sausage, and lack of whole milk - time spent sitting in an office chair, in his kitchen, doing the dishes together. And laughter, lots of laughter. And the red beard is always there, like my favorite song I can't get enough of. Even though it changes color with the seasons, the face that wears it is still the one that gives me butteflies.

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