Just friends.

I guess all it takes is a clean slate.

A blank page.

A 10 minute break.

To make me feel... whole.

This is where I belong. I love it here.

Right here.

It's every part of me wrapped into one blank page with one flashing cursor eagerly waiting to be expressed.

And sometimes all it takes to get here, are twinkling lights, a soft Christmas song, and stubbed toes.

What do I mean?

Sometimes, Dave and I dance. Okay, a lot of times.

But it's only sometimes we stop the dishes. Leave the food on the table. And dance.

****************************************************************************************

Mary was the first of three
Long black hair and sugar sweet
Daddy's eyes & momma's crooked smile

He takes my hand in his. And pulls me from my chair. I can't help but blush because I am such a bad dancer. But then I smile because.. so is he.

He smirks.

I fall all over again.

And give in.

She was barely seventeen
Got a job keepin dishes clean
Planned to stay in this city for a while
For a while

We are swaying, jerking, swaying, stepping on toes, and trying again. But tonight, something about the way he gently holds my hand and breathes slow captivates me.

Joseph ran a lumber yard 
About a mile from Olive Park
Quiet boy, he never had much to say 

I step on his toes.
I laugh.
He smiles and keeps going.

It was love right from the start
He bought a ring and won Mary's heart
Had hopes for a home and kids someday
Kids someday

The angel scared her half to death
She would've screamed but she lost her breath
On a midnight there in the middle of May

He said "Oh Mary, don't be afraid
You'll bear a son that the Lord has made
Name him Jesus, He'll light the way"

We move in the dark with nothing but candles lit and tree lights twinkling. Time almost stops. My gratitude for his friendship simply overwhelms me. My breath slows just thinking about it. The pressure in my chest rises. He looks at me- straight in the eyes. No shame. No awkwardness. Nothing to hide. Simple. Warm. And blue.

So very blue.

She packed the clothes, he made the plans
They had to go to Bethlehem
But there was nowhere left to stay

So in a barn she gave birth
To the King of Kings, the Lord of Earth
Just a little bitty thing sleeping on the hay
Sleeping on the hay

He wraps both arms around me just enough to let me know he's there. 
And keep me swaying.
My head rests in the nook on his chest where it fits just right. 

The story's too long to tell
But He walked on water and lived through hell
Killed on a cross and rose from the grave

We got a King, they got a Son
Mary and Joseph were the only ones
There on that very first Christmas day
 

There on that very first Christmas day

The moments and memories flood through my mind so strong I have to close my eyes. 

He loves me.
He will never let me down. (When it counts... wrong-sized shirt so does not count)
He accepts me. Every single part.

And he will forever be my friend.

Forever.

*****************************************************************************************************

They were small moments. Moments in a small, quiet, dimly lit apartment that changed me. Just a little bit. Moments I will cherish for eternity. Really.

What's the point?

I guess that I realized, for the billionth time, yet the first in so many ways, how sincere of a friend he is. He cares about me, as his friend. Which means something considering he is my husband. Ya know?

I know I know. It's confusing yet makes so much sense all at the same time. (Kinda how my brain operates...)

All the years, the turned down dates, denied kisses, weasled-out-of-snuggles, more turned-cheek kisses... because we were "just friends" were all worth it. The countless days and nights spent sharing secrets, getting snowies, star gazing... making s'mores, going on trips, arguing- and figuring out problems... were all worth it. Because we developed something I am grateful for now more than ever.

A friendship. And I mean a real friendship.

A friendship that requires I give my all, and let him give his. That gives him strength to hold me while I cry, no sob, in his arms. One that helps me allow myself to do that.

A friendship that sends us in fits of laughter over... whatever. One that smooths out the most awkward of situations. And comforts just because we're there.

One that takes work. Lots of it. One that motivates. Encourages. Redirects. Listens. Understands. Expresses. Loves. And sacrifices. A lot.

Just to keep it going. Because it's that worth it.

Those small, sacred moments moved me that cold December night. Filled me with motivation to be a better friend.

Because if I could ever be the friend he is to me... I will have succeeded in one of the greatest treasures of life.

R.