I first introduced her to my readers in this post.
And last Valentine's Day, husband gave me a beautifully framed reproduction to hang in our home.
Since then, my relationship with June has deepened into a curious kind of intimacy; one that is strangely satisfying. I don't think there's ever been a woman in my life with whom I've felt so perfectly at ease. I don't think there's ever been a woman in my life that I've trusted more. I don't think there's ever been a woman in my life who has accepted me more completely and with less expectation.
June is the perfect friend.
June doesn't betray my confidences, twist my words, or exploit my weaknesses.
June doesn't take from me just because she can.
June doesn't misake my happiness as disregard for her sadness.
June doesn't play guessing games.
June doesn't hold me to a higher standard of behavior than she holds herself.
June doesn't pretend everything is perfectly fine while secretly harboring anger and resentment.
June doesn't expect me to just know why.
June doesn't judge or dismiss me simply because some of our views differ.
June doesn't doesn't expect me to listen without giving me an opportunity to be heard.
June doesn't make me her whipping boy.
June doesn't find our friendship dispensable or disposable.
June doesn't hurt me.
June offers me comfort, never asking anything for herself. She willingly shares her tranquility; selflessly telegraphing warm solace through the very canvas of her presence.
June is constant. June is dependable. June is steadfast.
My June asks for nothing, expects nothing, and offers everything.
Sometimes, I don't care that June is silent, because she can soothe me without a word. Sometimes, I don't care that I will never feel the warmth of her cheek against mine. Her value is no less for the lack of arms to wrap around my shoulders.
Sometimes I think that it would be good to hear her laugh. It would be good to see the light in her eyes. It would be good to feel the warmth of her grasp and the silk of her hair in my mouth when the wind blows.
Sometimes I wonder if the risk of heartbreak is the price of a warm embrace, and if, ultimately, it's worth the cost.
I risk nothing loving June. Her friendship is not prefaced by a dollar sign. She does not demand a pound of flesh as collateral.
For all those reasons and more...she is Flaming Perfect.