How shall I start this?
It's January 18, 2014. My name is Katherine H. Beckett. That's silly, I know who I am. KATHERINE HOUGHTON BECKETT, HEAR ME ROAR, I AM WRITING IN BLUE PEN.
Okay, bad start. Hm... I find myself wanting to give context. I mean, it's been years since I've written in a journal. Even as I write this I'm starting to regret that because there's a lot of things I want to remember about the last few years. Actually there's a lot I want to remember from the last ten years but it's been longer than that since I've kept any record. So future self, you know what happened ten years ago but for posterity: ten years ago (more than that now. Wow.) is when mom died.
Maybe I'll try to catch up on the past as I write this journal. That already feels daunting, there have been a million moments to remember. I'm already dreading the wrist cramps I will get. But for some reason I feel compelled now to start recording my life for the future. This feels important.
Not that this journaling is completely unsolicited- but Castle got me this blank book for Christmas so I feel like I should at least give it a shot. He looks pretty satisfied watching me write right now.
I'm back. Needed a break there for a minute, Castle interrupted.
I guess as far as context goes, Castle is pretty much it. No, that's overstating it, don't get carried away Katherine. To his credit, he hasn't asked to read this yet. But it won't be long, no doubt. Then again, maybe he won't ask me at all. It's one of those things.
Sometimes I worry that my life is all about Castle, and that his is all about me. That's not a bad thing, per se… not sure what I'm trying to say here. To ask Castle for help expressing my thoughts in written form, or nay? Nay. This is between me and the page. He is the professional, I am the amateur. We should both stick with what we know. Ha. Like he ever does that. No, it doesn't really bear thinking about. We both existed long before we knew each other. Before I knew him Castle was a writer, a father, a husband, a son, a rich person. I was a cop, a reader, a biker, a daughter, a person who likes art (there must be a word for that...art appreciator?) We're still all of these things. We just do them together a lot.
I'm not really sure how I can even begin to describe the whole Castle situation so let's start by saying, we are getting married. I'll get to the details later, if ever, of how this came to be. But as I'm sure you remember, future-me, past-me never, ever, EVER would have thought this possible. I'VE GONE INSANE. Okay, no, but it's a little weird, to be honest. Okay, stop thinking about it Kate. But I can't because I'm so FRAKKING EXCITED.
Calm.
How about this past week? Actually forget that, it was way to complicated. Quite terrible- Castle's father and the CIA and people getting killed, and then I had to lie to Ryan and Espo. Sometimes I think I can see in Espo's eyes that he know's I'm lying. It's not to be dwelled on, especially here and now, tucked up with Castle.
Man, being in love isn't half as bad as I thought it was in high school. It's just pure love here, none of that silly tear-your-hair-out drama. I was just spectacularly wrong all those other times, but I guess like most things in life I needed those experiences to get me here. And here is so damn nice.
I'm getting too ambitious. Life history and philosophical reflections aside, I'll just start this off quick by describing right now.
I'm in Castle's room at his apartment. It's about 10:30, it's a Saturday. The door to his room is closed but through it I can hear Martha humming around the kitchen blending something. Speaking of, I must remember to make Dad's snickerdoodles for Castle et al one day. Maybe could tomorrow, I'll have to text Dad for the recipe again. I did tell Alexis I would show her how to make them, and she said she would like that.
It's pretty cold outside, there's been this crazy polar cold front for the last few weeks, it's made working outside absolute hell. I've never gone through so much Burt's Bees so quickly. Anyway it's warm in here, Castle's got those amazing heated floors. It's like surround sound heat, not to mention the fact that I'm under a two hundred dollar goose down comforter, or the fact that Castle sitting next to me is like a personal furnace. He doesn't even need the covers in here. He's kind of sweaty sometimes anyway, he's a much warmer sleeper than me.
I worked today but Castle stayed home, which is why he has enough energy to be up reading but I'm falling asleep already and it's not even eleven. But I'll be up hours before him. It was a slow day at work between cases, just a bunch of paperwork, hence Castle staying home. To be fair he did have a Raging Heat Word document open when I got home but I wouldn't put it past him to have posed with the laptop for my benefit. I guess I shouldn't complain. He's rich, he can do what he wants. No of course I can complain. Lazy ass.
Castle is… no, this won't work. It won't work to just describe him. That would take ages, decades. People are so much bigger than just the skins they live in and I don't even know where I'd begin with Castle. He's an idiot. He jokes too much. He's hilarious. I like his ears. Okay, that's like calling the Sistine Chapel 'nice'. Wow, what a metaphor, Katherine. That's embarrassing. Comparing him to the Sistine Chapel? Not my finest. I shall have to work at this.
Now he's next to me reading The Silmarillion. We started talking LOTR the other day and he was extremely embarrassed when I discovered he'd never read it. So naturally he hasn't put it down since. His shoulders look pretty nice right now. Nothing like a man holding a book. Shoulder kiss.
Okay, that's about all I can manage. I just blinked and then spent thirty seconds staring inside my eyelids before realizing I was half asleep. Just the thought of cocooning in this comforter and falling asleep is making me excited, it's extremely snuggly and warm in here. It's been a long day staring at police forms, and that Sancerre we had with dinner is getting to me too. Castle will probably stay up till four finishing that book. One more thing, I just want to remember this: toasty warm, Castle is unwavering in his attention to the book, his reading light is nice and dim like a reading light should be, minty mouth from Castle's toothpaste and a good tired from work, and it smells a little like cherries. Oh wait, that's me. But it's all just good, and I am happy.
To do:
snickerdoodles
call L
drycleaning
Sleep now. Goodnight.