This past weekend I spent the day with The Man at his house. It snowed all day and was absolutely magical (to me, I like that sort of thing). Late morning sometime, we went for a walk together around the pond while it was snowing. Everything was white and we were on the heels of a week or two of record low temperatures. Thus, I was poking around the edge of the water to see if it was frozen, which it was. However, the rest of the story I’m going to write as told by The Man later that afternoon… “Hey, Eva, remember that time you lured me out on the pond, jumped up and down until the ice cracked, and then raced back, pushing past me to get to shore?” Yeah, so that happened. I had poked my way about 20 feet out from shore, stomping and jumping as I went to test the ice. So there I was talking to The Man as he walked out on the ice with me. As I stood there, we heard this loud *crack* underneath our feet, like a gunshot. And you know in those moments, you just go into survival mode. Assuming he felt the same sincerity of purpose that I did about getting to shore, I ran right by him. It was not the most helpful I’ve ever been, I admit it. Sure was funny to talk about later though.
It was such a wonderful, wonderful day. Like, the stuff of legends. We watched Harry Potter movies too. I just felt (and feel) like I have everything in the world. My family, my best friend, and The Man. That is everything. I can’t believe how good The Man loves me. So patiently, so kindly, so tenderly.