The Lamenting of Beards and The Mowing of Yards

My person got a new job which required that he shave his very ZZTopesque beard. We are from the generation before Duck Dynasty. So beards were cool back in the day also…

Last night he told me he would have to shave. It made me kind of sad. In Chapter One, facial hair was not allowed near me. Ummmmm No, Go shave and we will talk about it.

In Chapter Two, with this man….. Ummmmm Yes please!!! Short beard, Long beard, Have Mercy!!!!

So when he told me, I said you know what I need to do. I rubbed it one last time.

Well, I saw him today. In my mind I leaped back a few years. This is how is beard was when he first strolled into my life, this was the shave he had, when I decided I needed to figure out a way to talk to him. When I was trying to get up my nerve to walk up to him and just say hello, without throwing up, because I couldn’t see someone who looked like him, ever being interested in someone that looked like me”.

Today, when I saw him, I had to remind myself to breathe.

The beard was kind of a safety net for me. He has the most amazing eyes on the planet. I feel like they see into my soul. The beard gave me something else to focus on when talking to him. I could make a complete sentence when talking with him.

So luckily, after I saw him, I had yard work to do. This helped me to work off some of the ummmmm…. I don’t to use the word frustrations or tension so let’s put it this way,  I needed to handle what I was feeling by doing something physical.

So today, yard work was a blessing. I enjoy yard work. Growing up with my parents, in the country, I can work as long and as hard as any man.

So, I am no longer lamenting the beard, exactly. I was quiet fond of it. I am fond of this shave too. I will just have to speak coherently when looking at those eyes.

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