Fishing

Could it be a sign of "true love" (and I mean that in a humorous tone)?

K lives to fish.  He loves to fish.  He will forgo time with friends to fish and saves most of his vacation time for fishing.  For example, when his family comes to visit in October, he isn't taking any days off to hang out with them.  The only thing he will not do is call in sick to work in order to go fish. He's extremely responsible about work and has, in fact, never called in sick to any job his entire life.  I get discouraged for him because he works two jobs and really doesn't have a ton of time to fish.

He's introduced me to it and I enjoy fishing, too.  I'm finding a zen place in my mind when I cast and reel, cast and reel, cast and reel.  It shuts off the near constant chatter in my brain.  The lapping of the bay's water against my legs is relaxing.  The sound of the tide tumbling against the rocks is soothing.  The sunlight dappling off the water, or the sun setting behind gorgeous mountain ranges are beautiful.  The briny tang of the air is invigorating.  In my troubled, worrisome life, fishing is a bit of a respite.

But I have not hooked and landed my own fish.

And the man who loves to fish let me land one he hooked yesterday so that I could understand how the end game feels.  He gave up landing one of his own to make sure I was finding the joy in it.  It was slow fishing yesterday; he only hooked two and he gave me half of his fun.  *Big happy sigh*  And the two times before that we fished, he didn't catch anything, so it does seem more of a sacrifice in that light.