I was ‘tagged’ by coconutice22 to list 15 things that make me happy. (I didn’t know exactly what it means to be ‘tagged’ so I looked it up. Didn’t want to ask Mike. Well, now I know.)

Mike makes me happy. You know, before I met him I didn’t even know what true happiness was or that anyone who’s above the age of six can be happy like that. But then he came and that was that. He makes me insanely happy and I am fully aware that my life would be nothing like it is without him.

our children , Scott and Willow

watching Pepper play (it makes me happier than I thought any dog would be able to make me)

taking the “Eos” out for a sail and

returning to the marina in the evening during sunset, the gable of our house just barely visible behind the tips of the masts of all the sailing boats that have made fast along the narrow wooden runways

the house

a good suit and a good shirt and tie and a good pair of shoes to go along with it

René’s approving look when I step out of the changing room (What can I say? I am a vain son of a bitch...)

listening to certain pieces of music (and sometimes, my father’s songs are among them)

That’s ten. And I could stop here because it’s rather obscene to be that happy already. But it said 15 things and the following list could be endless.

the way Mike’s hair flutters in the breeze when we take the cabriolet to the house

kissing the salty water from Mike’s cheeks when he’s fresh out of the ocean (he loves to swim)

the way Mike clenches around me when he’s just a second away from coming

watching Mike work, knees deep in files, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, the cap of a text marker between his lips and his cheeks flushed and glowing with eagerness, his hair a mess and his eyes slightly glassy and that incredible mind doing its incredible thing behind that smooth forehead

the way Mike looks the moment he opens his eyes for the first time on a new morning

“It is necessity and not pleasure that compels us.  [Italian: Necessita c'induce, e non diletto.]”  ― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

*

                                                   You will always lack finesse, brother-

It was a fortunate thing, a very fortunate thing, he was alone, that there was no commentary this time and that there wouldn't be any further commentary on his actions for a long time to come. The blond wiped his face with the back of his hand, leaving behind even more streaks of red, dark red, dry and wet red that clung to him like a second skin. He could taste it, of course he tasted it, didn't it end up in his mouth one way or another, by sheer force or by intent, swallowed the metallic taste without savoring it, this time.

                        Can you not control yourself-