I often hint at people in my blog posts. Sometimes the "person" is an object, I've affectionately named the beat-up old map I keep in my car, it's taken me on many a journey and I've referred to it more than once in posts people always assume are romantic (this makes me happy, that so many people associate things with love in this world). Of all people I know, I am one that would have a love affair with an ancient map that's taken me all over the world.... so it's not far off.
One of the beauties I allude to - and call out by name periodically - is this lovely gem. I met Christina before there was an Andrew, before we were in the jobs we are in now, before we both went through so many life-changing events. We've been there through life's ups and down, standing by each other's side, often with something chocolate or a chai in our hands. There is something beautiful about finding the people you still love after you've seen the skeletons in their closet, and knowing they feel the same about you. There is no one I'd rather go on a photography adventure with, or look for a new bakery and espresso, no one I would pose in a weird bed of flowers with - or take pictures of in a weird bed of flowers- no one that I talk about art with in the same way.
One of the greatest joys about getting older is that these types of friendships form. They are the stuff forged from seeing the world in a similar way, and loving each-others flaws. The - cut from the same cloth- kind of people.
So while I don't often mention beautiful sundrenched days discovering forest trails along ocean coasts, barefoot in the sand, and cameras in hand, I'm grateful those days exist in my life. I'm grateful this lady will stop with me every time I see dark chocolate, and that she will climb steep hillsides on hot days even in a wool sweater (to be fair I've done the same in a velvet dress... we should plan better).
I love that I can ask her the hard life questions, that she will be honest when I need feedback on myself as a person, that we both love dark bars with good music, that she appreciates how loud I am because she can't hear well.
I'm mostly grateful that I know she will be in my life until we are old and grey, and we will still be looking for the perfect breakfast place, or working on capturing moments together.
For those of you that have your own Christina, I hope you take the time today to send them a quick message of love.