Last night Jacob came to bed late, much more capable of hanging out in a lawn chair late into the night, drinking whiskey and water and relaxing than I seem to be. He had one foot squarely in the hundred acre wood and one foot out when he walked into the bedroom and he shook my shoulder gently until I sat up and asked him what was wrong.
He took my face in his hands, and kissed my lips until I tasted like whiskey now too and he said,
No worries for this life, piglet, I have a plan that will be carried out most presently.
Hmmm? What plan is that?
A plan to be happily ever after forever, piglet.
Oh good.
It is. It will be. You're everything I ever wanted. I still wake up dreaming of you and go to mush when I can kiss you in public. In private I'm a goner, I really am. I never thought I would be so excited over another human bean in my life and I'm blessed with every glance you throw my way, every word you speak to me and every moment when I know you love me, princess. I'm so grateful for you.
At this point Jacob is attempting to sound drunkenly whipped. Doesn't he? He isn't, Smitten, sure. Obsessed, of course. Whipped? Not on your life. It's a bone of contention in a world of pure chauvinists. Trust me on that one.
Drunk, definitely.
Jacob, you're in charge of your life. You created this life we have, with me. I'm the one who's blessed.
See, piglet? I told you we had a lot in common and I really believe we do and we don't even know the half or the whole of it as of yet.
Yes. What you said. (I'm tired and just trying to keep up with his words.)
Only I really can't hold this liquor anymore. It's slipping to the floor and I believe I need some sleep.
Right. Goodnight, Pooh.
Good night to you, Piglet. I really really really love-
He was asleep right then. And I keep playing it over in my head, the drunken words he was so passionate to tell me.
He has a plan.
For us.
