The smudge

I know it's been an awfully long while. Lately I've been trying vainly to come up with a brilliant idea for a post. Nothing has come.

However today I ran across the words I wrote in my Beloved's valentine card earlier this year. I found them poignant and still very true. I apologize that it is yet another love-themed post, but I'm still a newlywed technically. Cut me some slack.

I didn't know there was a black
dot on the page. Until I touched it.
It smudged around the beautiful capital
S I had made. And not just once ... every
time I tried to fix it - yet another smudge
appeared. I was crushed. The card had already
taken longer than I had anticipated and I was just
starting to like its peculiarity. And now it's marred.
Flawed. How could I give it to you?                     

  Then it dawned on me. Stephen, you have touched me - 
and I you - in places of the soul that have never been seen.
Before, these small vices and imperfections were unnoticeable
little dots. But then you touched me. They were brought to light 
in unlovely ways. I've cried so much these past two months, because 
you have smeared my dots. I didn't want to see those flaws. 
didn't  want you to know. I couldn't give you a flawed 
        bride. had to be perfect for you.                                            
But I'm not.                
                                     And it is painful
for you - and me - to have to face these things. You
may think this is an exaggerated story, and not
one to be told on Valentines Day. But the
fact that you love me in spite of my
imperfections - that you love me
unconditionally - THAT is the
best gift I've ever been
given to me. Stephen,
That is true


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