Written sometime in Nashville

What kind of a day is it when you realize you are as happy as you will ever be. The only other way to be happy is to exercise disregard or denial. Or to change your definition of happy. Or to be caught up in the ongoing story of creation and feel the undulations of the waves as they carry you. My happiness has largely been found within mystery and possibilities. However elating this can be at times, it isn’t lived, it relies on what could be. I guess I have mistaken this great romance with mystery to be an indication of what would come, say, when I get married. That’s been the big event I have always pinned it all on. I had the revelation while talking to my dear friend Dan, that the real romance of my life is not to be had with a person, but with God’s mystery, sometimes revealed often elusive… but close enough to chase. It’s almost like a little tinkerbell. I get excited by possibilities and connections, by the hope of redemption and by seeing the way God has intricately woven Everything. Like string theory. Sort of I Heart Huckabees. Everything is connected, everything affects everything else. So the romance of my life is ideas, but the love of my life will be a person, whom I will choose to love and who will choose to love me, and I think we will be chosen to love each other. Even though there might have been another. And there is some romance, but not a lot. Mostly living life.
(Later addition) He is he, and I am I and this is the beauty of our relationship.