I love him, and that is the begining of everything.

I am speaking, obviously, about the impact of dreams and wishes and fairy tales on one's perception of reality.

And I love it.

The Boy and I had what I would like to call an amazing weekend. I would like to call it that and I would like to write and speak a million facts about why, but I must limit myself. We musn't get too carried away, for sanity's sake.

Here are a few things I loved about this perfect set of days and a few things I hope never change:

1. Friday night was short and sweet and real. The Boy came to the dance hall where I work on Fridays and Fridays only while a live band strums out a hundred perfectly acceptable covers including things from Dino and Rob Thomas, the Four Seasons and Diamond Rio. He met some of his familia there to join in dinner and the festivities of the evening. They are real people. You know about real people, right? Messy people with great stories and knowing smiles who make mistakes and make you laugh and, in his case, cry a little in a good way.

He enjoyed his time from what little I saw of it and then he did something he has a million times told me he wouldn't. He took my hand and lead me out on the floor. While I was drenched in sweat and had a myriad of things to do, he twirled and whirled me with the best of 'em and I tell you I was smitten. He's a good sport to spoil me and not a half bad dancer at that.

1A. Saturday night we attended the wedding of a dear friend of mine and he was a fantastic date. He calmed me when we were late and lost, he let me fret over forgetting my battery for the camera (instead of telling me not to worry about it and hush up,he just let me be bummed. It's nice to have someone empathize with you and indulge in feelings once in a while-- real messy uncomfortable feelings) Then again, he was happy to dance with me. Sure he chose the song, but I can't blame him there. Sure, I tricked him to boogie-woogie, but he's good enough not to blame me.

2. He just held me. Saturday night we spent together after the wedding, just talking and dreaming and musing out loud and he just held me. In a few ways too. Sure, he wrapped his strong loving arms around me and pinned me to the bed with a leg here and his lips there, but it was more than that. It was nicer than that. He held my attention and my loving glances. He took what I said to heart and he made useful comments about me and life and where I fit in. This is what it means to be held, and to know what a promise is in real time

3. We had some cool, typical unforgettable moments together. Getting lost-ish, running around in the freezing rain, dancing, waking up next to someone you can't get enough of, lazy Sunday's, and an Ikea date. It's nice. Just plain nice to have someone to share those things with that you know doesn't take them any more or less serious than they are. They just are. They just spend time with you knowing that they are building toward the same calming rush that you are looking for, a peace in love. So say Whitman, "Peace is always beautiful."

4. I just like him. I just like the fact that he's real. And honest. And he lets me talk. And he wants me to be happy. I can see everything amazing about him that I like in the simplest things. In the way he lets me just turn around and kiss him whenever I want. And the way he lets me say things that sound like "future" love ideas. The way that he tells a story so that I understand it. The way he will answer me every time I ask him what he's thinking. The way he makes me want to be calm and sweet and always thinking about what is best for him.

Oh love. Oh peace. Oh Boy.