Hellboy surprised me. I wasn't looking for him. I was looking for someone to hang out with, & we did. But then he turned out to be like this:
- Patient, while I figured out I was in love.
- Smart--minus any braggadocio.
- Effortlessly, generously affectionate.
- Quiet. God, I love a quiet man.
I like my girlfriends chatty; I like men to be quiet. Not that Hellboy can't rant with the best of 'em, b/c he can. But he is also an expert listener, and godknowsthatisrare.
- He's a knee-weakening kisser.
- Gets paint in his hair.
- Takes me on surprise trips like to BAKERSFIELD where we eat tacos and visit Buck Owens' Museum and canoodle.
- Makes up fabulous cocktails.
- So unflappable I wanna flap him.
- Midwestern f*cking impeccable manners.
- Doesn't read music & can just play. F*ck.
- Sees my strengths as assets for us, not as a threat, or competition.
- Loves smart
- Is not traditional, nor religious, nor spiritual.
- Knows how to roast his own coffee. [Sold.]
- Buys me ice cream and puts his arm around me while I
eat it daintilydecimate it.
- Works magic with a cast-iron skillet.
- Loves his mom (though he calls her "Mahm" b/c accent).
- Wears only one type—and one color—of socks.
- Benevolently gentle.
- Unselfconsciously blunt.
- Poignantly self-effacing.
- Will work tirelessly as my photographic model, even in cemeteries.
- Is moving to San Diego with me:
We're going to live in Vivian's former home. We'll make lattes, and take walks together, and barbecue brisket, and start a garden, and sit under the pergola.
Life marches on. And I'm as happy as Hellboy.
Next week: More happy.