Monday, February 14, 2011

dear dr. krog


I like you.


You're not like the other people here, in the trailer park.


Oh, wait. It's not really love if you're quoting the Dead Milkmen, is it?


But it's true. My Krog is not like the other people here, in the suburbs. There's a sort of quiet ferocity in him, the strong pause of a dam holding back millions of gallons of deathwater. He's like a catastrophic force of nature barely contained by a striped blue tie.

Wait, that's not saying it right.

Let's just say that he's a psychologist with callouses on his thumbs from perfecting his chokeholds. Does that explain it? He's the smartest person I know. He's funny. He's silly. He knows me well enough to manage me. He once described me as a Jaguar among women, something beautiful and old fashioned and unfashionably curvy that requires a great deal of behind-the-scenes management to keep purring.

He's not entirely wrong there.

The history can explain it, maybe.

One time, we were broke, back when he was in grad school. I wanted to paint. He told me to put it on our very-high-APR credit card, because my painting was more important than our debt. Then he got his PhD and paid it off. If I ask him if I look good in an outfit, he'll actually tell me if I don't. He gave me a tactical baton for my birthday once, then taught me how to use it. He made me smile by reciting T.S. Eliot's The Wasteland while wearing a shirt with a panda bear on it. When I bring home a new pair of boots, he congratulates me. He told me to write a book, and I did. And even though he's the most professional, intelligent, and driven man I know, he gets excited about playing My Little Ponies with his daughter.


He likes to be Rainbow Dash.


I guess what I'm saying, is that I was hard to please. I needed a challenge. I needed a genius and a cave man, a goof and a critic. I needed someone fearless. I needed someone who would never let me rest on my laurels and be complacent. I needed someone to take me seriously and then make me laugh until I cry.


I needed an equal.


I found one.


Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart. Only one more month till the Ides!
love, d.

4 comments:

merveilleuse said...

So, so sweet.

Virginia Valerie said...

You guys are great! :-)

urfaqhesse said...

this made me cry a little. :)

delilah, the unruly helpmeet said...

urfa, I think you mean "pee a little."

Thanks, guys!