Happy (very belated) birthday, Travis! A throwback to the very first chapter of this book.
A year ago.
A year ago, I'd been dreading today like I kind of dreaded every October 5th. I was never the biggest fan of birthdays. As a kid, when all it meant was cake and opening presents, sure. There was excitement in turning another year older, heading towards an age where you could do more, have more freedom.
But now, it signified was the passage of time. How maybe you weren't where you'd thought you'd be, personally, even if you were grateful as hell for the way your life was. And for me, it definitely was a reminder that I wasn't going to be able to play forever. My body was slowly breaking down a little more all the time, despite taking care of it and I couldn't deny the inevitable or put it off, no matter how much I wanted to.
Last year, something changed. There was a shift in my way of thinking and it was mainly because of someone in my life who viewed birthdays like blessings. She got excited beyond belief to celebrate her own, but there was no comparing how fucking supped she was when it was someone's she loved.
When she surprised me last year by flying in, taking time out of her busy schedule to make sure she was there, it helped to make me see that maybe it wasn't so bad turning another year older, not when I had this amazing person in my life to hold my hand and walk into it with me.
Taylor and I were pretty new back then; just over two months out. We were taking things slow, but it was kind of obvious to both of us that we wanted more. She was here for all of ten minutes before we were using labels, confirming that what was between us was special and I've never looked back since. Like everything else, she made the day fun...took me out to lunch, brought in a boatload of gifts and afterwards, she was my date to dinner and cake at Pat and Britt's. It was the best birthday I'd had in awhile and I knew it was because she was there. Making an effort meant everything to me...nothing else mattered, not the money someone spent, not a fancy meal...it was the support and Tay is the kind of human being that prioritizes time and making sure the people in her life know how special they are to her.
Today is 35. An age a few years ago, I wasn't really looking forward to getting to. It meant that my days playing football were numbered, that I was no closer to having that family I'd wanted or meeting the woman I'd share a future with. I loved my life...I was enjoying the ride, for sure, but something was missing.
"Hey, you."
The light streaming through the blinds feels warm on my face, forcing me to open my eyes before my alarm's due to go off for practice. I'm still kind of fuzzy from sleep and it takes me a minute or two to focus on her voice, that she's talking to me.
"Hey, baby," I greet, swallowing to clear my throat. I zone in, see her standing next to our bed. She's dressed already, in jeans and a white button down and she's so beautiful first thing in the morning, it always makes me forget I'm a fucking dinosaur before ten, dragging my ass until the coffee kicks in.
"Happy birthday," she says and I straighten up a little, pushing over so that she can sit when I see she's got a tray in her hands which she slides over my lap but not before pressing her lips to mine, lingering for a minute or two while I slide both hands down over her back.
"You didn't have to---" I start, but she shoots me a look, quickly replaced by a little smirk and she kisses me again.
She's made me chocolate chip pancakes with butter and syrup with a side of bacon and a bowl of strawberries, fresh coffee, too and I'm not surprised by both the gesture and the fact she remembered the French toast is the go-to usually, especially on game days, but pancakes are a birthday tradition, started way back when by my mom. Taylor listens, takes in what you say and always remembers. She's the busiest person in the world and it still doesn't matter; she makes sure the little things are important. One of my favorite qualities she has.
