The things I show are just a heartbeat of our time together. I can pick and chose between the things I want to show. Not all are good. We aren't always a perfectly shiny happy loving couple. We make mistakes too.

Yesterday when He came home He asked where I had been. I told Him and I sat quietly as He lectured me about playing with fire. I am naive and way too easygoing. I assume the best of everyone even when I know it is the wrong time to do so. I put myself into situations that I am unsure of and I just let myself be pulled along with the flow. I become infatuated with people too easily. I believe what they say as opposed to the actions they take and I trust them to keep their word. I am crushed when people let me down. He hates to see me hurt and so He lectured me.

I didn't mind the lecture. I know that this is a weakness that I have. It has been exploited and has hurt me before. I accepted His words, listened to His wisdom and understood what it was He was trying to say. But there was something missing that left me feeling cold and alone.

'Why aren't You loving me?' I asked. He seemed surprised.
'Why do you think I am not?'

I looked at Him standing in the doorway of my room. His hands were in His pockets and His attitude aloof, His words cold as He told me to be careful about whom I gave my affection too, like it was almost nothing to do with Him.

'Because You are standing over there, so clinical and so removed.' I was suddenly fighting back tears.
'Appearances can be deceptive.' He said I felt something between us was wrong. I knew it was something I had done.

His phone rang in the other room and He looked at me with brilliant blue eyes that gave away nothing before going to His study to answer it. We both knew it would be work and that the people He had been waiting on had arrived. He came back to my room with His laptop bag slung over His shoulder and His briefcase in His hand. He told me that He had to go and that He didn't know what time He would be home. I smiled and said ok.

There were three strides between us. Three steps were all it would have taken to be in His arms, to be kissing His lips before He had to go. I couldn't bring myself to cross the floor.

'Bye,' I said with a nonchalance I didn't feel. He turned and walked down the hall. I put my face in my hands and cried the tears that had been threatening to fall. I fretted over it all evening. He said. I said. He meant. I meant. He believed this. I believed that. What if He was right? What if I hurt Him without meaning to? What if something I do hurts us without me even realising that is what I am doing? Am I ok? Are we ok? What have I done wrong?

He didn't make it home before I slept but this morning I woke in His arms. It took maybe ten minutes for us both to work out what the other really meant. We bandaged it up quickly before He had to go. There will be more talk when He gets back home.

We aren't perfect but that's ok.

Nobody is meant to be.