I'm Here

I'm right here ... I'm here ... I want to be here. I want to be here.

We had a few extra moments on Saturday and so we went to look at furniture, he has a house to furnish now. We meandered through the bedroom sets and made a comment here and there at the distressed wood or cast iron frame (we didn't use the correct terminology, ever). It was at the bunk beds that we stopped, it's the truth. These are practical. I sited E's room and how convenient it is, he sited the space saver. We both made mention of the fact that with a full underneath and a twin on top the extra room could be sleeping three without hesitation. It's practical. Sure, in my head the seven designers in my life (my question should truly be where did I collect such an abundance of designing friends?) were making some remark about how it wasn't a fabulous idea unless I was planning on housing little children in the near future. But I held my ground with those voices in my head (no comments necessary, thank you) and pushed for the bunk beds. No purchase was made.

I'm right here ... I'm here ... I want to be here. I want to be here.

We spent a moment bantering back and forth, both of us as stubborn as ever, but in the end it was clear. We were not going to come to a conclusion that suited both sides equally, not on this. Neither of us excel at important conversation, both of us tend to say exactly what we think but don't consider the consequences of said thought. Neither of us are good at stating how we feel about those thoughts, leaving a gulf a mile wide forged between us. But in the end, we both said our peace/piece and no matter the gulf and the brokenness that lie within ... it was the end.

I'm right here ... I'm here ... I want to be here. I want to be here. I'm happy to be in Utah.