Megan is strong. Megan is a determined leader and intelligent without realizing; cultured, open minded, diverse in beliefs, worldly and experienced with travel and yet questions her self assurance because she is humble. I try my best to point at her history of success. This was no accident, she created each fragment of her ‘now.’ At 18 she left home and started her journey along with her career. She put herself through college, while working, and has lived on different continents. She’s lived in Mississippi, our beloved Maine, Rhode Island, and even North Dakota to name a few. Yet she holds her tongue when meeting new faces for fear she may not have something of value to say. I tell her I like to hear her sing.
Megan is beautiful. She is caring and vibrant. Megan is what this world needs.
Megan found me. On our first date I purposefully put my worst foot forward. It was while we sat over a drink that I told her my family had broken when I was three and that there was much mental illness running through my family tree. I told her that I don’t smile. And that I don’t know if I believe in love and that it’s a theory people hold onto. I told her of my violent past and that I had spent time in jail and that I know anger and hate well. I told her that I don’t believe in marriage. I looked at her fingers and studied her rings.
Without judgment Megan asked if I’d like to extend the evening and go to a movie. I remember it well. She wore her hair up and her brilliant blue eyes eased me. She was beautiful and I had long ago turned my ‘hope’ off. I knew she was firmly planted and that I could explode and ruin anything I cared for in an instant. So, I saw her as a strong, beautiful, women whom I mind as well already let go.
After the movie we walked to the parking lot. I hugged Megan and I picked her feet off the ground and swung them gently.
It’s challenging for me to write this. For me, to write is to feel. It took me years to mouth the words I love you. She would tell me she loved me and I would hug her. Then she’d ask if I’d like to go to a movie. My childhood taught me, talk is cheap. It wasn’t that I didn’t love Megan, I wanted to show her. And I was so damned bad at figuring out how to un-clutter my scars to show her properly that I nearly ruined everything. So when I say Megan saved me, that Megan is the reason I write, I mean exactly that. There is no agenda, no hidden metaphor that needs to be written.
I scratch my head and wonder why Megan wants to be with a Scottish (heritage) lad who enjoys beer with friends. I thank her strength and her ability to let one human be whom they were intended to be.
I told Megan I don’t smile. It seems ever since she came into my life, all I do is smile. Megan, you are helping me to become the man I was always trying to achieve to be. When I sat down with your father and mother at their kitchen table and told them my plans to propose, I experienced one of the greatest joys I know. Honesty. Then, your father and I went north to fly fish, and I explored woods and lakes and mud as though I were in the ravine.
Broken, violent, angry, spiraling. And you said yes? And my heart is full. How am I the one to receive the one and a million reaction? Is this me? It is me and it is you. I have so much to say, so much to write, and I have you to thank. Your determination saved me. As a boy I had an ideal firmly locked within the walls on my mind. The ideal was what I felt a man should be. I will fill that ideal. I love you- Sincerely, the blue eyed boy with the broken token.
March 14, 2015-
With ferocity, I’ll be there. There is no walking away.