Recently, your mother and I were searching for an answer on Google. Halfway through entering the question, Google returned a list of the most popular searches in the world. Perched at the top of the list was “How to keep him interested.”
It startled me. I scanned several of the countless articles about how to be sexy and sexual, when to bring him a beer versus a sandwich, and the ways to make him feel smart and superior.
And I got angry.
Little One, it is not, has never been, and never will be your job to “keep him interested.”
Little One, your only task is to know deeply in your soul—in that unshakeable place that isn’t rattled by rejection and loss and ego—that you are worthy of interest. (If you can remember that everyone else is worthy of interest also, the battle of your life will be mostly won. But that is a letter for another day.)
If you can trust your worth in this way, you will be attractive in the most important sense of the word: you will attract a boy who is both capable of interest and who wants to spend his one life investing all of his interest in you.
Little One, I want to tell you about the boy who doesn’t need to be keptinterested, because he knows you are interesting:
I don’t care if he puts his elbows on the dinner table—as long as he puts his eyes on the way your nose scrunches when you smile. And then can’t stop looking.
I don’t care if he can’t play a bit of golf with me—as long as he can play with the children you give him and revel in all the glorious and frustrating ways they are just like you.
I don’t care if he doesn’t follow his wallet—as long as he follows his heart and it always leads him back to you.
I don’t care if he is strong—as long as he gives you the space to exercise the strength that is in your heart.
I couldn’t care less how he votes—as long as he wakes up every morning and daily elects you to a place of honor in your home and a place of reverence in his heart.
I don’t care about the color of his skin—as long as he paints the canvas of your lives with brushstrokes of patience, and sacrifice, and vulnerability, and tenderness.
I don’t care if he was raised in this religion or that religion or no religion—as long as he was raised to value the sacred and to know every moment of life, and every moment of life with you, is deeply sacred.
In the end, Little One, if you stumble across a man like that and he and I have nothing else in common, we will have the most important thing in common:
Because in the end, Little One, the only thing you should have to do to “keep him interested” is to be you.
Your eternally interested guy,
This post is, of course, dedicated to my daughter, my Cutie-Pie. But I also want to dedicate it beyond her.
I wrote it for my wife, who has courageously held on to her sense of worth and has always held me accountable to being that kind of “boy.”
I wrote it for every grown woman I have met inside and outside of my therapy office—the women who have never known this voice of a Daddy.
And I wrote it for the generation of boys-becoming-men who need to be reminded of what is really important—my little girl finding a loving, lifelong companion is dependent upon at least one of you figuring this out. I’m praying for you.
music blasting an electronic beat, but nothing beats as fast as my pulse under his lips, mouth trailing down my neck.
his hair is short underneath my fingers, and i tug ever so slightly, as his tongue tangles once again with mine.
there is only darkness and lips, my hand tangled in his tshirt, his palms against my back pulling me closer over the console of the car between us.
my mouth tastes of fire and of heat, desire turning my cheeks a brighter shade, because of him. him. him.
his hands leave whispers of wanting across my stomach and i ignite, tugging him closer, dissolving any space that existed between us.
i am a wildfire. he is gasoline.
“drop a match, i go up in flames.”
(m.b, a pynch poem)
He didn’t know why he wasn’t, but fact of the matter was he rarely got letters these days. Amelia and Jon were both preoccupied with their lives, and the only other people who really wrote him were the Longbottoms and Mad Eye. But this wasn’t a letter from either of them for two reasons. One, that none of them had handwriting like that. And two, none of them had owls that were such divas.
He flipped the letter over and opened it once he’d gotten the letter from the owl’s beak, and only then by dumping a handful of treats onto the counter to preoccupy the delivery harpy. It wasn’t a very long letter, but he recognized Sirius’ handwriting the moment it was open, and he couldn’t help but smile a bit at it.
“Kira, we got a letter from your brother,” he said, and Kira giggled from her high chair.
As I was told I wasn’t allowed to send this back, you’re not allowed to send it back either. I know you’d have said no if I’d asked, and that was why I didn’t ask. Sometimes I find it better to ask for forgiveness than for permission.
When I learned about my brother, you were there for me. You were there for me when my father di Orion died, and you were there when my brother died as well. It’s more than being there, of course, a person can be there and mean nothing at all.
You might be thinking of sending it back because someone else could use it better, but I can’t think of anyone else who could. Euphemia and Fleamont have no need for anything like this. James and Lily are alright, and I have enough in my life to buy another house, if need be. And no matter what sort of regulations the world puts on him, he’ll be alright. No one can hurt him when he’s with me.
You’re six years older than me. Only six years, but you’ve treated me like your son. I haven’t had too many people in my life do that.
This should be enough, and it leaves me with plenty. For a wedding, and a honeymoon, and a life, no matter what happens to me. And something disgustingly extravagant for James and Lily’s wedding gift.
So this should be enough for you to be alright. You’re always alright, of course. More alright, then? More alright. They key is to a vault, in Gringott’s. It’s in your name.
He wasn’t standing. Edgar wasn’t sure when that fact sunk in, whether when he slid down the counter or when he actually hit the floor, but he was sitting there on the floor when he reached Sirius’ signature. He looked up at the key on the table, then back at the letter. He read it again. He flipped it over, like there would be a “haha, fooled you!” written on the back. He read the letter again.
Kira gurgled at him, and he stared at her. She was blurry; he was crying. Of course he was crying. Edgar didn’t greet any change in his life without tears, but these were definitely good tears. He got up, slowly, and picked up the key, turning it over in his hand. Kira gurgled again, and he walked over to her.
“Kiraloo, get your coat,” he said as he lifted her up out of her high chair, holding her high in the air until she squealed with laughter. “You and I are going to get your brother a World’s Best Brother mug. And a hat.”
This isn’t going to be a passive aggressive letter. There's no point in that you’ve already won. To the one that loves him next, be good to him please. I beg you, be good to him. Be kind and sweet and caring. He can be bossy and likes to have his own way your life will be easier if you just accept that. He isn’t perfect, he’s made mistakes and he’s a flawed being but please… please.. do not judge him for this. I urge you to accept him for who he is, flaws and all.
I can not ask you enough times to be good to him. He’s going to need you sometimes and when he does I ask that you give him your undivided attention. I ask that you just be with him till it’s all over and he feels better. Do not take advantage of him if he trusts you, please. He can be quite the jerk sometimes and in that moment I ask you to remember the good in him. I ask you to remember the type of man he is and it will all be okay.
To the one that loves him next, every time you look into his eyes, you are looking into my world. Every time you hug him, you are holding my world in your arms. I don’t hate you, I promise. I have nothing against you either. Never let him fall asleep thinking he’s unloved don’t do it.. please.. never. He’s made a lot of mistakes in his life and he’s open and honest about them. Please do not hold this against him, he’s ever changing… ever growing. He accepts responsibility for his mistakes and I ask that you allow him to move on.
I can tell you that he isn’t an easy person to love. It may take a lot of work but I assure you he deserves it. When I first met him, I disliked him so much. Hell I was sure he and I would never be friends and I intended to never talk to him again! I think I hated him! Then just as I was about to get rid of him something said to me “Don’t do it. Give him a chance.. he is a good person and he will be a part of your life for a long time.”
And so I listened to that voice! And it was right, it turns out.. he really was a good person just misunderstood. I’m going to ask you to listen to that voice.. or what ever it is because it’s always right. You may learn things about him by relying on this and that’s a good thing. You will know when you need to pray for him, when you need to talk to him. You will know things about him that he never told you. You may even know things about him before they happen or sense them I don’t know what this is but I ask you never ignore it.
It has given me the opportunity to pray for his life two times and I’m going to demand that if that happens to you, you get on your damn knees and you start praying and you don’t stop till what ever it is.. is over. Till he’s okay. They will be like little nudges I guess pushing you to do certain things for him. I know I’ve experienced it quite a few times. He needs your prayers and I’m going to ask you to pray for him daily just as I do even on the days when you feel as if you’re unable to pray for yourself, pray for him.
It’s been almost an entire year that I have been praying for him. Every day. I don’t think I’ve ever skipped a day and I don’t intend you but I promise you all I pray for is his health and safety. Never anything more that’s not my place. I will pray that who ever you are, that you make him happy. He deserves it more than anyone I know and if I knew how to make him happy, I would.
To the one who loves him next, always be polite to him. Respect him, cherish him and honor him. Never forget that he’s not just the man you love but he’s God’s own son and you must cherish that. Be patient with him, please. Please… above all else… never ever… hurt him. Just fill his life with happiness is all I ask.
Sometimes my mind gets stuck. This endless loop of you you you, and do you think of me still? Could you think of me still? An endless loop of you, and have you forgotten me already? I wish I wish I wish I could forget you.