make you smile

I’ve found a way to make you smile.

Poop.

A joke anything on the male body that is usually covered by pants.

Gas.

My doing something ridiculous and then trying to make it look like it didn’t happen.

My trying to rap.

Hearing Eddie say something like he’s an adult.

Seeing Charlie and I sleep the exact same way: on our backs, arms above our heads.

I read bad poetry
into your machine.

You always read my words.

Always.

You have encouraged me to write down every story I know.

And you always read.

I save your messages
just to hear your voice.

I still have the emails you sent me over nine years ago.

I have every card you ever got me.

I even have a few of the post it notes you have left me.

you always listen carefully
to awkward rhymes.

No matter how illogical I sound, you always hear me out.

When I ugly cry, you sit patiently until my sobs become words.

Did I mention you always read my words?

you always say your name
like I wouldn’t know it’s you
at your most beautiful.

You have never been Mr. Romance.

You’re a little awkward in the “moves” department.

Even after all this time, you are still learning to express your feelings and emotions.

It’s cute.

I’ve found a way to make you
I’ve found a way
a way to make you smile.

How excited I get about the little things.

How much I hate Dave Mustaine.

How I make your favorite foods just because.

How I decide to annoy you with a good “steam rolling” when it’s late and you are trying to sleep.

How I push your buttons to make you “fight” with me.

How certain words said at exactly the right time create an eruption of giggles.

at my most beautiful
I count your eyelashes secretly.

The way you pull Eddie closer to you when he is sad or scared.

The way you put your nose right up to Charlie’s nose.

The way you and Eddie walk side by side.

The way you stand when you hold Charlie.

The way your arms flex when you are lifting your sons.

The way you “run” so slowly, but make it look fast when you are playing soccer with Eddie.

The way you hug.

with every one, whisper I love you.
I let you sleep.

I tell you all the time.

Randomly.

And yet you always seem taken aback…

a bit surprised.

Or I’ll smile and you’ll still ask, “what’s that for?”

Nothing.

Everything.

I know your closed eye watching me,
listening.
I thought I saw a smile.

You are my biggest fan.

You are my number one cheerleader.

Even when I think you’re not paying attention…

(because sometimes you’re not)…

You still “get” me.

You still want me to be first.

Still.

I’ve found a way to make you
I’ve found a way
a way to make you smile.

Seven years since we laughed and giggled our way through promises.

Seven years of being tested on how much we meant those promises.

Seven years of making each other smile.

I love you, Cortney.

ps. sorry about last night and trying to get a “recent picture”.  Clearly that gets filed under “crap I do to make you crabby too late at night, but is funny.”  Right? Heh.

*Lyrics from “At My Most Beautiful” by R.E.M.

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