No lie: I would rather undergo annual hemorrhoidectomies than face the dreaded holiday season. Nothing like Thanksgiving and Christmas to remind one of chronic family dysfunction, personal shortcomings, and the general shittiness of humanity. This was always the week that I stocked up on narcotics, refilled my lexapro, and retrieved my spare liver from cold storage: weathering the storm.
But today, two days prior to turkey, I'm actually feeling a spring in my step (or rather limp, due to a touch o' the gout) as the season looms; for this will be the first Thanksgiving I'll be spending with my girlfriend.
Simply put, she's pretty amazing. She's smart, beautiful, funny, sweet, sexy....all the best adjectives. We've been together for about seven months and we just seem to be getting better and better, happier and more in love as time goes on. She works hard, raises four kids, has a great outlook and loves life.
I guess if I'm truly Thankful this season it's for having her in my life. I never expected to be this happy and this much in love at age 45. I mean, we have a great time whether we're doing groceries or folding laundry. I joke that we could have fun being held hostage, as long as we're together, and she agrees. She makes a hot breakfast for me every morning and packs me a lunch even though she's doing the same for four (other?) adolescents; she makes sure I have clean clothes; she tolerates my insanity and bad habits, and makes love to me on a nightly basis (literally). I seriously cannot comprehend my good fortune.
And the best part? When I tell her how absolutely crazy I am about her, she tells me she feels the same way about me.
How..lucky...am...I?
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