Reflection

Christmas Day in the morning when I open my eyes. Lying in my own bed, in my own house, next to my own man. The love of my life. A first ever. Not the spinsterish daughter, the oddball older sister in a spare room. Me in my own house with my own man. His snores the gentle melody I fall asleep to. Not taking time out of my life to go play a part. Not leaving my life in Peterborough or pressing pause on it. All parts integrated, coming together in one. No secrets. No half truths I tell them, I try to tell myself. That openness is the best gift. J never gave me that, few other gifts, but especially that. Chris gives me so much. I again marvel at the changes in one year to my life.