Nocturnal Wenchy

Dear friends and other interesting creatures,

From the beginning he was all in. While I analysed the unexpected love, devotion and absolute certainty he possessed about our future (not to mention the chunks of sexy that was coming my way), he was mixing our CD’S and DVD’s which at the time closed my throat with anxiety.

I came into the relationship with a healthy dose of fear, a mountain of debt, a geyser that kept flooding the basement and many children.

By the time he unpacked a reasonable amount of books, I felt more at ease with whatever amount of baggage he came with.

I admit… I do judge anyone who does not read. One must at least own a few well worn out books that you can discuss, perhaps even quote from.

Reading is not only part of intellectual foreplay, but it speaks to the mindset of adventure, dreaming and living out loud. A mentally shallow man could never hold my affection or interest, not for very long anyway.

The other night during a power failure, my husband was reading to our boy Douglas (16 ) and I. Herman Charles Bosman. He does different voices and Oom Schalk comes alive. I laugh at the same stories although he has read them to me many times over the years. I don’t think Douglas was as moved by the experience, but 20 years from now, it will be a memory he cherishes.

It is in those moment, in our voorkamer, that I see the man I fell in love with. It has taken years, but I have finally allowed his books on my shelf.

He helps me unpack and sort out my baggage mentally, physically, emotionally, psychologically, financially…and I help him unpack and sort out his baggage on equal levels. Neither of us have travelled light.

Like a mermaid, I am not afraid of depth. It appears my husband can hold his breathe, … assured he will always find me.

Love you @SirNoid 💜💍💛

I wish you enough,

Wenchy