“how was it?”

After we spend time together, I get asked the questions a lot.

“How did it go?”

“What did you do?”

And I hear from their pushy cousin “Tell meeeeeeeeeee!”

For reasons I don’t completely understand, people never seem satisfied with my one-word reply.


It doesn’t matter that it is completely accurate.

It doesn’t matter that I mean it with every ounce of my being.

It doesn’t matter that no other word could explain it better.

They want more.

Now I’m private in general, but I love talking about you.

I do. A lot. Some might say I do it too much. Personally I don’t think I do it enough. I don’t think I could ever do it enough.

I even think about how I could better describe our time together. I try to corral the words into some kind of coherent order. But mostly I just smile. Huge. And want to make a sound that most closely resembles what would come out of the mouth of one of those My Super Sweet 16 girls from MTV when their sketchily rich father arranges for Usher to show up at their party. Riding a horse.

Spending time with you IS awesome. But it’s hard to explain to anyone who isn’t us.

How do I put into words the ability to hug you? Will they be able to fully grasp how perfectly you fit in my embrace?

How do I make them understand that you chatting with my Adorably Cute Niece on Skype, and getting a sneak preview of her Hallowe’en costume, turned me into a giant Peter puddle?

Would I be able to stop laughing long enough to tell them how The Monkey talked you into dressing up and going trick or treating to a few nearby houses, so that she could introduce you to more friends and extended family? I know I wouldn’t be able to hold back the giggles when I explained how she forgot to introduce you to people and you basically just went trick or treating. And that you made a decent haul.

Will they get how cool it is that we bought our first pumpkin together? Or that we carved it together, while playing footsies under the table while two cousin-twerps carved their own across from us.


I know for a fact that I will never, ever be able to fully articulate the joy I feel when I can kiss you whenever I want. They won’t understand. They won’t see how amazing a gift that is to me.

Whenever I want, love.

I won’t even try to describe us under the covers, our bodies being where they are meant, wrapped around each other, warm and oblivious to the pouring rain and driving wind. And to everything else.

I love cooking for you. I love giving you back rubs that last forever. I love falling asleep spooning you and waking up in the same position. But if asked why…

Well, because it’s Ashley.

They even ask why there aren’t more pictures. I’ll shrug, lost in my own thoughts, realizing fully that sometimes you’re too busy making wonderful memories to take the time to capture them.

If I could find the words, I would explain how right it feels to be with you. Righter than I knew possible. .

But how can I even try to fully explain what it is like to stare into those big brown eyes? Or tell how they magically melt me and build me up at the same time. Or how your voice is even warmer in person than it is on the phone or Skype or in videos.

Babe, after our Christmas/New Years visit, I’m sure they’ll ask again.

And I’m sure that my initial reply will be “Awesome.”

Maybe I’ll try to give more detail. Maybe they’ll understand some.

But, really, as long as YOU fully understand just how much I love being with you, I’m happy.

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