Loving the Legend

He possesses a nourishing warmth that seeps into my bones and reminds me of what it’s like to be untethered from grief.

We’re all haunted in some way—whether by the secrets we protect, the truths we deny, or the inexplicable ugliness life throws our way.”  His words are a sunburst in the middle of my chest. It’s not just that I’m seen. More miraculously, he makes me want to be seen.

Did you catch my message to you when I scored the forty points you commanded?” “Your hand over your heart?” “You saw it.” His soft smile tugs at my chest. “I did. Damn, that’s sweet.

Katharine’s in the middle of asking another question when Sid’s pulled away by the Marvels’ general manager. “Hold on!” Sid says, turning back to the camera. “To my family at home watching”—he places his hand on his heart, his signal to me—“god, I wish you were here. I love you, and I can’t wait to celebrate with you. I’m bringing this trophy home to you.

What’s that?” Dad tilted his ear toward me. “I didn’t quite catch it.” This was a thing he did. He wanted me to proclaim it like a battle cry. I asked, “WHAT KIND OF DAY WILL IT BE, MY SON?” His voice reverberated through me like wildfire, igniting a resounding cry. I jolted upright and yelled, “IT’S GONNA BE EXTRAORDINARY!

t’s that?” Dad tilted his ear toward me. “I didn’t quite catch it.” This was a thing he did. He wanted me to proclaim it like a battle cry. I asked, “WHAT KIND OF DAY WILL IT BE, MY SON?” His voice reverberated through me like wildfire, igniting a resounding cry. I jolted upright and yelled, “IT’S GONNA BE EXTRAORDINARY!

Say I’ll be your husband and a father to our kids.