I just watched the movie Frida. Simply beautiful. The scene where she is painting a picture of herself in her backbrace and out from the painted eyes come her tears, I just wanted to cry.

I always wondered what it would be like to be married to another artist. I used to wish I would find a musician, poet or painter when I was in highschool. I wrote stories to go with those imaginings.

I fell in love with Jesse. I wanted him so bad, he captivated me long before we met. I fell in love the first time I layed eyes on him. I conjured up all these thoughts of how he would be an artist, a poet and so tender with expression. My heart raced every time I seen him, he was truely so amazingly beautiful with his long dark hair, his perfectly flawless skin and his pale green eyes and his mouth was just a beauty on it's own, full lips, perfectly shaped.

We met two years later. He was not an artist. He was far from an artist. He is 100% technical and logical. A complete opposite from me. He writes with the opposite hand, he likes the colors I despise. He doesn't express himself freely, if at all. Yes, he is my soul mate. I wanted him to be that artist I dreamt of before I even knew him, he was just too beautiful not to be. Sometimes I wish he was still that dream.

I love him how he is, but i'm still curious. What if? What would life for us be like for us then?

It is really hard to decorate our home when I love natural woods, old things and colors that warm the heart. He loves contemporary, steel, futuristic design.

I believe in the old ways, he believes in technology.