Here, a post stolen directly from Jacob's newest journal, a pretty coffee-brown moleskin number I bought for him and in return he had to let me post entry number one, written three days ago, in which he explains the upcoming trip.
Sorry, I have nothing to add to this, walking with knees this weak is so much harder than I once hoped it might be.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
I expected in my lifetime to find someone I would be comfortable with. I would love a girl and in return she would love me too. I would always have a date to the movies. I would have a permanent dinner and travel partner. I would end each night lying beside someone who knew me well and someone I cared for greatly. Bridget is none of those things. She took my definition of marriage, of love itself and turned it inside out. She's the walking epitome of what it means to be in love. She falls asleep on my shoulder at the movies, every time. It's as if the dark room and the loud music signifies a rest for her little head. It's hard to get her to eat, she'd rather sit and watch me and talk. We haven't traveled much. I hope I can change that. Mostly at night I fall asleep not just beside Bridget but holding her so close in my arms that we breathe in unison. I become a cage around her, a human shield to keep her safe so that she can sleep, defender of her life against her nightmares and terrors. It isn't the comfort of being beside someone. It's the outpouring of emotions from within that have humbled me. I never expected to find such depth and breadth in love. I never expected to want to spend every moment-waking or asleep-with another person. She's like fire contained within her skin. She embodies every aspect of life in her beauty, in her lust for what she loves, her honest love for me, it defies measurement-it could bring down a mountain, a kingdom even. When I wake up in the morning I feel her skin in my hands, when I open my eyes I look into hers and my throat catches and I can do nothing except pause and let love overwhelm me. I say my thanks to God for her very presence in my life but this is more than I could have hoped for. I tell her I love her but it's never enough. "I love you." is not descriptive or encompassing enough for what I feel for my wife. She is the world-she is my world. When she chose me I expected to find a balance, to have a partner but coming up for air is a task I'd rather not undertake at this time. It's too beautiful being here with her, consumed by these feelings. I am a lucky man. If Bridget woke up tomorrow, changed her mind, crushed my heart and took me for everything I had to give her I would still love her forever. My heart is at her mercy, as is my soul. I'm taking her home next week. She needs a break, needs to get away and breathe some sea breezes and let the salt soak into her skin and claim her invisible crown that waits for her afloat in the waves, weaving seaweed through her hair and trying to hide the scales of her mermaid fin. When she has all that she can hold I'll bring her back and we'll continue on. She's doing very well and it's a good time for good things. Someday I'll learn how to hold the ocean in my hands and give it to her on my knees but until that day comes I must be content to take her to the very edge and see that smile that I only see when she's up to her knees in the saltwater and she turns to thank me without saying a word. She can't because it won't come out. I try to say it for her and then I can't speak. We smile at each other in silence because life is perfect now with my princess.
Two peas, one pod. One very sentimental pod.
And Jacob, honey, one more thing. Paragraphs, they are your friends.
(Edit: Since re-reading it a hundred times I've come to the conclusion that this was an extra-special entry heavy on the sweet because he knew I would share it. He's wicked that way, and I am a little slow on the draw. Not like I care much, the part about him learning to hold the ocean in his hands to give to me on his knees? That kind of thing is what makes him tick. Hopefully he'll figure out how to pull it off.)
