I am exotically grateful, and more.

Gotta concede that exotic is in the eye of the beholder. And I have a keen eye for the exotic. Maybe keener than my Italian true love. I keep reminding her that she lives a very exotic existence. On an island in the Mediterranean Sea. As a citizen of Italy. As a teacher of English and English literature. Plus the fact that she’s exotically beautiful. And exotically intelligent, too. She also gets to live in Minnesota in the summertime. Now if that doesn’t add up to an exotic life, I don’t know what does. She’s gifted. She’s blessed. But still, she occasionally laments that maybe her life may not be fully exotic. That it sometimes alternates between humdrum and stressful. I’d call that a defeatist attitude. As for me, I’m enamored with my true love. And thoroughly convinced that I live a very, very exotic life. In large part, because of her daily presence.  I catch exotic vibes. And they seem to emanate from her. Outward. Hitting me smack in the mind, gut and heart. For which I am boundlessly happy and exotically grateful. –Jim Broede