A Good Lunch For Me Can Make You Sick

Every once in a great while, I get to have lunch with Travis on a workday, whenever one of us has the day off. It's usually me meeting him for lunch, but twice in the last week (going on three times), he's come up to the office to take me out. This always thrills me to no end. Meals outside the home with Travis always seem to have a special significance - some of our best talks and most special moments have been shared over a meal. But when I do get to take that break in the middle of the day with him, it's so special.

It's made me realize, too, how completely different I am with him - not that I'm a different person, I'm just brighter. Like someone replaced a 40-watt bulb with one of those high intensity headlamp bulbs. I'm pretty much just regular old Alyson at work, nothing all that special, occasionally witty, but never particularly glowing. Travis can show up at my office in torn cut-offs and a ball cap and I can't wait to show him off. I love sitting at my desk while he perches on the corner of it, looking at my pictures and making me laugh. I love that I can actually feel myself become a warmer person just because he's there. I love that when we're sitting at lunch, he always tells me at some point that I'm so pretty or that I look beautiful, and I never question it or think he's out of his mind...I know I must be beautiful because I feel that way...because my light is on. I love that he knows everyone's names and they all greet him and come up to me afterward to remind me how sweet, thoughtful, and/or handsome a man he is.

You know, it's enough to make me forget how much the burns on my hand hurt from when I set it on fire last night. (I love playing with my pyro effects, but I'm as klutzy with those as I am with anything else.)