Never thought I would be writing Centon, but that is the nature of the contest, so here we go:
Everyone has a favorite time of the day. There are morning people, night owls, afternoon people, and some in betweeners. It's one of those questions friends casually ask each other over time, as if it was some sort of indicator of who you were as a person. For me, the answer seemed to change over time. It was never the same answer twice.
When I was 5 years old, my favorite time of day was sunrise. The world seemed to come alive, and all the people seemed to wake up, and I could play with my friends, explore, learn, and do all the other things that came with being a small child.
I would play make-believe and pretend to be whatever I wanted. I pretended that I was a superhero that could save the planet from any threat that dared to cross his path. I was a lion tamer in the circus. I was a big, strong wrestler like the guys on TV. That was my favorite thing to pretend to be. I didn't like the night, because he would have to go to bed. I didn't like bed. It was boring, and I had important things to do. The only thing that made me sleep was knowing the sun would rise, and I could play the next day. Oh, how I loved the sunrise.
Then, I became a teenager, and the dawn lost its appeal. The morning rays that once enticed me to explore invaded my room and deprived me of much needed sleep, and forced my eyes to open before they were ready. Unlike my peers at school, I was still somewhat a morning person, and I retained my perky nature, but the afternoon after school was now my favorite time of the day by far. I studied (sometimes), hung out with my friends (more of the time), and flirted around. The afternoon held promises of impromptu football games that would last for hours. There were movies to be watched. There were pranks to be pulled. There were kisses to be shared in quiet hallways. That was the life. How I loved the afternoon sun.
Then I became a professional wrestler. The night time is now my glory. I am the master of Thuganomics, the Chain-Gang Commander. I am John Cena, and the fans came in the thousands to see me in action. Standing in that ring and hearing my name being chanted was the most amazing feeling of my life, and I breathed it in. I love the Night!
It didn't stop there, of course. Not only am I a WWE superstar, but I am an actor, a role model, an advocate for breast cancer research, a granter of wishes, and so much more. I have a beautiful house, cars, clothes, and the greatest lover anyone could ask for.
Ah, Randy, you are perfect. Not only are you an amazing performer in the ring, you have proven to be my best friend, confidante, lover, and soul mate.
People thought we were crazy when we said we were dating.
"You two are way too different."
"What do you guys talk about, anyway?"
"Doesn't he get on your nerves?"
"Which one of you is on top?" (That one was my mom...awkward.)
We rolled our eyes at each comment, because they don't have to know what makes it work between us. Through all of our ups and downs, we will always be there to pick each other up and pull through.
Besides, you helped me learn what my favorite part of the day really is, and always will be. It was our anniversary. We were walking through the park. It was late in the day, and we had nowhere we had to go.
The sun was setting in the horizon as you turned your head to me, laughing like a kid. The last rays of the sun hit your dancing eyes in a way that made them glow. The image seared itself into my memory permanently. You looked almost angelic in that moment. You seemed to notice I was staring and asked if I was OK. I grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss.
"I love you," I said after we came up for air. You smiled at me with such a warmth in your face.
"I love you, too," you sighed.
You wrapped your arms around me, and we stayed there until the sun went down entirely. That was when I knew we were perfect. God, I love the sunset. And this love is a keeper.