Foxes Love Pop Tarts

The whole of me yearns to make gentle the storms of her discontent.  To assuage the anger left amongst the lingering ashes of her contrition.  And to help unshackle the better intentions of her restrained angels.

They were restricted for far too long.  Doubted.  Chastised. Ridiculed.  But through the dark times of competitive isolation, the ember of her originality somehow remained alight.  The brilliance of her spark endured, undimmed.  

And now, the moment has come for her to burn free.

I will fight to keep that fire sustained through the uniqueness of our experience together.  It won’t be easy, combining lives and creative expressions.  But the things that matter most in this life are seldom so simple.  And that complication only serves to stimulate me.

She is so many things to me already…a wiggly coconspirator in spontaneously ridiculous shenanigans.  A deviously clever typewriter bandit.  Often temperamental; occasionally prickly.  A conundrum whirlwind of blonde fury inside a half-pint package of sassy abrasiveness.

Taken separately, a misunderstood juxtaposition of bohemian domestication. Taken together, the totality of my insatiable appetites.  A delicious dichotomy upon which my soul feasts every damn time she smiles.  Or graces me with the gentleness of her touch.

The marks tallied across her heart bear the burden of her story; there are stories in her scars.  I have absorbed many of them, despite her attempts at clever editing.  That is the curse of attentive investment and helping to carry the weight of traumas revealed.  Because they never tell you when you’re growing up that of all the things that must be paid during your adulting years, attention is the most arduous.  And, the most significant.

She is my beautiful little Pop Tart.   And, my brave Little Bunny.  As her trusty Knight in rusted, dented armour, I will champion her cause, endlessly.  I will slay the many dragons of her doubts with patient tenderness.  And provocative humour that makes her blush.  I will remain forever vigilant against the many things that might bring her harm; I am stronger and smarter than the monsters beneath her bed.

My heart forever resides inside the pretty green eyes of a Clinton County girl, even when temporarily trapped in the grip of dirty Boulevard insanity.  She holds the future of my enlightenment in her smile.  And carries the consequence of our everything in her delights.

We are doing okay for a couple of besotted goofballs. 

I am proud of all that we have accomplished, even though there is so much more left to be achieved.

The future holds many things.  To most, that is a scary perspective.   But I harbor no fear.  Because together, our possibilities are limitless.  We will do what is hard. And achieve what is great.

So let our legacy be that we were here.  That we made some joyful noise shaking things up. And, that we loved each other.

About Typewriter Fox, fighter, lover, typewriter fanatic, and unrepentant Fenian bastard. Known to few, hated by many, but still typing the good fight.

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