Moonrise Kingdom

Yesterday it was his birthday, and our two year wedding anniversary. We went back to the ocean - we always do - waded into the nighttime waters and braved crashing waves. We used my scarf as a blanket and felt and watched and listened and imprinted images of the black beach and grey-dawn crests of waves, the bright planets and constellations, the feeling of sand between toes and keeping each other warm in between the usual barely contained conversations. We ran back to our room and had our ceremonious de-sanding of shoes and clothes. Cold skin, warm room, warm sheets, warm skin and bodies.

We got tattoos across our ribs of Moonrise Kingdom. So fitting and so appropriate in every way. In every way that it represents a place that exists in our minds as a mixture of memory and fantasy - both a physical place and a true kingdom of heart and spirit that belongs only to us. A place that is preserved forever there but in real life in the story is washed away. In our hearts we are children together - and that is when we are at our best. That kingdom will always be in my heart, and it always be a real place in which we share.

Today he brought me home a bottle of Calvados that comes from Normandy. It's fiery and cold and wintry and smooth.

I love my boy. That love will always be a kingdom, and it always has been.  And it was before we ever even knew each other.