Today I feel lucky.

But not in a stumbled-upon-the-Jackpot-prize-and-all-of-a-sudden-I’m-a-billionaire kind of way. But lucky in a simple sense. Lucky I get to hold you. Lucky I am finally strong enough to do it right, to do it with the perfect combination of gentle and firm. Lucky that you are mine for the keeping.

Because I am so used to doing it wrong. My handshake is always a little too much. Too tight around the fingers. Too weak. Never enough of that perfect middle. I’m not a natural businesswoman, guaranteed to falter in her elevator speech. My personality mirrors that, too. One foot in that part of the sky that is too pure, too blue, too thin to breathe in—the other foot entrenched in the burning quicksands of hell. I have always operated this way; a child of extremes. I belong to nothing other than everything. If learning how to blissfully exist in a state of mindless peace was a life lesson, I was probably absent that day. I have never quite mastered the art of taking it easy.

But you are the easiest person to love. You are no weeping willow, no tall child, no language impossible to speak. You make it so the language of loving you is one that feels most like the mother tongue I never forgot. Second nature. You make the syllables of love digestible—an elementary school phonics lesson—as easy as the alphabet I learned when I was still too young to understand how to carry the weight of words. You remind me of the days I spent sounding out the curvature of each letter, harsh and soft, accented and smooth. And come to think of it, learning a language is a lot like learning a person. You will stumble. Your tongue will not know how to hold all of that foreign feeling.  But still, you speak anyway, stuttering over the small stuff and tripping up over letters that still wiggle like loose baby teeth in your mouth. I want to speak you forever, love. I want to speak you until the day all language dies.

So yes. Today I am lucky. Lucky in the sort of way that makes me want to shake the hand of God. I’ve never had a good handshake, I know, but I hope it’s enough for Him to feel how much you matter.

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