Nine days ago, he really listened and understood when I spoke about my depression, how it's fogging up my thoughts and taking over my emotions. He didn't minimize it or deny it.
Nine years ago, it was a sunny and too-warm Saturday, and we got married. He dealt with my father and his brothers. He stood outside in the heat, sweating his ass off, to have pictures taken. He said 'I do' and got that sweet smile on his face that I don't see too often now. He danced with me, even though he hates to dance, and NEVER does it. He even dropped me at the end of our first dance. Like, on my head, feet up in the air, off the stage, dropped me.
Love, hate, spite, forgiveness.
Pride, humility, teasing, protecting.
Faith, hope, prayers, compromise.
I am proud to say we have made it through these nine years, all the good, all the bad, and we are indeed stronger from it.
I love this man, in all (and in spite of) his conservative crankiness.
I love this man, in all his hard work and pride.
I love this man, who giggles with our daughter, plays barbies, hide 'n' seek, and Candy Land.
I love this man, who searches for spirituality and peace.
Who calms me when I am stressed out to the point of no return.
Who makes me laugh in spite of myself.
Who gets drunk on a random Friday night and makes up new words like 'magicalician' (combining musician and magician) and stumbles over his own feet on the way to bed.
Who cooks awesome breakfast.
Who rolls his eyes at my TV loves and my music crushes.
Who thinks to buy me a subscription to Texas Monthly because he knows I'm a total dork and love to read it cover-to-cover.
Who kills bugs in the house, cleans up dog puke when I don't catch it, & does the dishes more times than I care to mention.
Who cares for my mother and sister, making sure they are safe and have what they need.
Who doesn't complain that I fall madly in love with every adoptable dog I see.
Who loves me, in spite of our differences.
I love this man.