What day is today again?

What day is today again?

Yes, I know, I know.
I was attempting to be funny.

No, I didn't forget.

Just not feeling romantic at the moment.

A lot has been going on personally that my time here has been sidetracked lately.
Plus, I'm having serious trouble posting any new story themes
for fear of scaring some of you readers off.

For now, I'll leave you with two things:
One: An Irish blessing for today:

May your cottage roof be well Thatched

And those inside be well Matched.

Two: The following Post in the form of a Poem.

Which seems appropriate, yet possibly not in the most obvious ways.

...............

I always wanted her to be comfortable.
Comfortable
in her own skin.

It wasn’t a matter of age
I know people like to attribute it to such,
reaching the age where you care less, or not at all, of others opinions.
No doubt that may be for some, but hardly the case for all.

I believe it has to do with how you are raised,
much less than about societal pressures.
At least from my vantage point.
The ones who were comfortable had nothing in common except,
perhaps, a sliver of commonality in their upbringing; just enough.

It wasn’t a matter of high self-esteem.
All of them, shared that missing trait in common
 – granted to varying degrees.Yet, none ever seeing the true magnitude of their beauty
not to the level I did.

I was blinded more often then not by radiance.
Their radiance.

Her luminosity.

She more then the others struggled with seeing her own.
Perhaps there was some truth to it, but not based on a scale of external beauty,
all due to internal misdirected emotion.

I always wanted her to see herself as I did,
to see the same beauty I was in awe of,
to simply be.
......

There was an elegant calm as they strolled about
practically naked.
Naked by societal standards yet
naked deeper in emotional vulnerability;
gifting me trust unspoken.

Barefoot, topless and disheveled hair.
Occasional goosebumps and shivers never leading to retreat;
an oversize cup of caffeine always at the rescue.

My heart.
Warmed by their radiance.
Warmed by nothing more than witnessing these beings floating from one room to another.

Carefree strolling more often then not.The occasional sauntering, to my amusement. Simply as if commonplace and not as it truly was –
A miraculous vision.

Oh, why couldn’t she be like them?

I always wanted her to be comfortable.
To be comfortable in her own skin.
To be comfortable in her own soul.
To be naked.
Trusting me.
Free.

...............
And that is why,

as my closest friend has reminded time and again:

"That is why dog people should be with dog people and cat people with cat people."