What is there to write about other than the woes and sorrows of one’s life? The best writers, after all, are tragic souls. I do not live a pained life, I live the life that was gifted to me, and it is truly a gift. There are many things on my mind that I want to throw out there, first and foremost, love.
He grew up with the ability to listen to others, to really hear what they are saying and what they mean, and offer sage advice, well beyond his years. Of course there are times where he puts ketchup on burritos and performs other atrocities, but for the most part, he offers more than he receives to the ones he loves. I’ve never met a person who cares about me more than he does. His love penetrates my heart and leaves my hurt, my trust issues, and my anger in it’s wake. He isn’t perfect. I will never say that he is, but I will say that he is perfect for me.
I offer a lot to him, he offers a lot to me, and we are constantly sharing what we love about each other. It’s like what you read in relationship books. He goes out of his way to remember things like the 19 month anniversary of our wedding day, which is today. He will text me funny pictures of himself or of our cats. It’s sometimes the little things that mean the most. He is one to always appreciate the little things in life. He describes our courtship as “effortless”, which is hilarious because all I was doing was exerting effort to make it happen. In all my many relationships I had never asked a man to “be my boyfriend” or to “make it official”. But with him, I knew he was the one for me, earlier than I care to admit, I had to snatch him up!
His love for me is paramount. “Ain’t nobody, love me better.” -Chaka Khan.
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