I Love You Because...

I'm starting this post from the Kelleher living room.

The walls are covered in hanging carpets and interesting faces. Faces of turtles, faces of indigenous Africans, faces of nudes (and other parts of nudes), faces of zebras and fish and stout, proud warthogs. 

I love this space. So many memories. My first time getting drunk. Baha. Rolling on the grass near the pond and texting all the wrong people all the wrong things. Reciting bits and pieces from The Vagina Monologues with far too much enthusiasm. Cathy's magic soup. My first experience nude modeling -- and god, Janet made it so beautiful. Made ME feel so beautiful. It's her fault I like being naked ALL THE TIME. 

The wedding is over.

I grated eleven cabbages.

Cooked twelve cups of lentils.

Teamwork grilled fifty pounds of ribs.

And remembered all the reasons I love Janet.

(there are a lot)

Janet.

I love you because you befriended me in all my post-homeschool awkward glory.

I didn't understand how to function outside of that very specific environment.

I love you because you were so patient. So non-judgmental. So damn encouraging when my previous worldviews crumbled around me, under me. So beautifully understanding about the poor decisions I made from those crumbled places.

I love you because you've helped me break through boundaries.  

... including any sort of physical "bubble".

I like that we don't have a bubble. 

You are one of the most active people I've ever met. 

You are one of the most alive. 

I love watching you love living. 

Watching you break boundaries and push edges has inspired me to question mine. 

(Although I don't think I'll ever be quite as hardcore as you. But that's okay. I'm a yogi and not supposed to get all competitive. But... I'm also not "supposed" to eat bacon. So...)

I love you because you taught me the anatomy of male genitalia through cookies.

And you were understanding when I broke mine.

(although did say, "Aimee, this is why you can't have nice things.")

And you didn't judge when I demonstrated better knowledge of pterodactyls than penises.

I love you for making weird faces with me.

For introducing me to strange, new foods and being entirely unfazed when I spent more time playing with aforementioned food than actually eating it. 

I love you for your friends. 

You attract incredible people, Mrs. Kelleher. From all walks of life. 

Thanks for attracting me. 

I love you for our memories. 

Remember that one time we took Special Effects Makeup together and you stumpified my arm?

And remember when I attempted arm stumpification on you,  but failed miserably and just went with "Sea Creature Emerging from Chest"?

(I also love you for totally rocking the look, "Sea Creature Emerging from Chest". Not many can)

I love you because you have always been able to capture little moments like these --

-- and make me feel seen.

I love you for getting me drunk

for the first time. 

For taking such good care of me

and making it such a good time. 

I adore you for taking advantage of the fact that I pass out so easily. 

On multiple occasions. 

I love the way you listen. 

You met me at a time wherein I was processing a lot. 

Thanks for being my processing buddy. 

For never being too tired to listen (or at least never appearing too tired to listen). 

Everyone we meet changes us in one way or another. 

I'm grateful for the way you've changed me. 

I love the way we play together. Onstage and off. 

(but jesus, I fucking hated that globe hat. You lucked out on being the moon in this scene)

Once again.

You lucked out.

I love you, BUT... 

...next time you have to be the reindeer.

Do you know how many stagehands I almost punched in the face for squeezing my Rudolph nose?

A lot. A lot of stagehands were nearly critically injured. 
 

I love you for sharing this show with me.

For your creativity.

Your unbelievable ability to communicate your vision.

And how well you combine leadership with team-playership.
 

I love you for making rehearsals look like this.

I love you for letting me know that it's okay to be sad. 

Whatever I feel is okay. 

I love you for even finding beauty in my sadness. 

Your eyes, Janet. 

I love you for your eyes. 

The way you look at people. 

The way you look at challenges. 

(or the way you look for challenges)

Thank-you for letting me see me the way you see me.

I love you for your ability to get carried away and not give a shit.

Thanks for getting carried away with me,

for lending me your fake mustaches,

and for not minding that when I'm tired at a party, I curl up and pass out. Pronto.

Yesterday was your wedding.

You looked stunning. Radiant. Mind-bogglingly dreamy. In fact, you looked even better than when you were dressed as the moon in that play (although your ceremony was about as theatrical. In the best possible way).

I cried all over my peter pan shoes. 

'Cos you, Janet, are one of the most important people in my life.

Seeing you so exquisitely happy made my tear ducts explode.

I've always known you wouldn't "settle".

Not in the end.

But I could never have imagined how far above "settling" you'd fly.

And I, for one, would fly across the ocean again --

-- in a heartbeat -- 

to be able to hear you say those words

and to see you looking that goddamn, helplessly happy.