Why I Love Her

My better half.

She is everything. She is funny as hell. She is smarter than anyone I know. She is immature. She is vulnerable. She is patient. She is kind. She is sweet. She’s a bitch. She is a cynic. She is simple. She is.

She is not afraid of living life. She makes fun of herself. She takes people as they are. She likes to hide. She gets on my nerves. She tells great stories. She makes, takes, likes, gets, tells...is.

She makes me happy. She makes me cry. She.

She makes life better because she loves me just the way I is: goofy, egotistical, frank, self-involved.

She is one of the reasons I can write and live and love and dance and fuck and smile and create and recreate and travel and calculate and function and pray and believe and orbit and spin and absorb and maintain and forgive and die…and….and that’s all.

Here’s to Carla Denise Robinson. Friends since high school. My sister, my co-parent, my confidant, my business partner, my fellow artist, my colleague, my vision of God.

My favorite thing.

Wednesday, December 24, 2003 @ 10:54 AM