Can't Twitter or Facebook 9

I don't have enough delusions of grandeur to desire propagation.

Digits

Last evening I caught a glimpse of RJ taking a nap with his right hand in his pocket, the covers disheveled, his feet exposed. It was the right dose of boyishness and vulnerability that made me fall for him in the first place. An adorable sight.

The thought to document the moment photographically crossed my mind. But I decided against it. I've taken many such photos. When do I look at them? Plus we haven't quite resolved the issue of sharing/having one centralized location for "our" photos. Not that RJ cares much about photographs of himself, unlike narcissistic me.

This morning, during my floor exercise that is part yoga and part physical therapy, I looked up and caught a glimpse of RJ in bed, his back towards me.

These are the days. These are the moments. Someday, maybe, I'll look up and he won't be there.

I have come to conclude that, if RJ and I have twenty years, I'll be pretty happy. I'm not greedy.

Not saying that surely he'll pass before I do. One never knows.

Regret filled me for not having snapped a shot of napping RJ yesterday. And then I decided to be happy with the mental picture that will always be with me. Until dementia, that is. Maybe.

Vignette 28

The other night, I tried to demonstrate California's harmful UV rays by displaying the tan lines on my left hand.

RJ shrugged, "That means you're married. And you wear a watch."