Beckett’s Journal June 22
Beckett’s Journal
She twirls her hair when she’s nervous.
Her cheeks flush the perfect shade of pink when she’s angry.
When she gets out of the shower, she smells like sun-ripened strawberries.
Sour gummy bears (not worms) are her kryptonite.
Her favorite color is purple because her middle name is Iris.
She cries during nature documentaries yet believes she can be a homicide detective when she watches true crime shows.
If she strays from her morning routine, her whole day gets thrown off.
Every day her laughter drifts through my mind, the soundtrack of my waking thoughts and peaceful dreams.
She’s unaware that her vibrant spark has ignited a flame inside me. One that’ll burn for her for eternity.
She’s taught me that love doesn’t always have to be loud and in-your-face.
It doesn’t have to be loud in order to be strong.
It could be subtle and understated. Quiet and peaceful. Because more often than not, quiet love is given from the loudest hearts.
Joey may possess a big personality, but the small gestures are what mean the most to me. Holding my hand under the table to quiet anxious thoughts, creating code words to signal when I’m overwhelmed at social gatherings, and swooping in to save me from awkward conversations.
I’d say I’ve shown her what she means to me in simple ways too. Cooking for her when she hasn’t had a decent meal in days, encouraging her to sketch more, and reassuring her with gentle words.
All are acts of quiet love.
Because her heart has been looking for a safe place to land. And I’ve been looking for a heart to cherish, wanting nothing more than to be that safe space for her tender heart.