But none like this. Because I love you. And as I listened to you put our babies to bed, later than suggested by all the parenting book, I smiled. I knew I’d be up late… wanting to talk to you, maybe take a shower, or have some downtime, but my business is new. And I stay up late.
But we never suffer. Because of you.
I love that you love our girls so wholly. I love that you come home to the chaos and soak it in and let me let it out. I love that you say nothing… and I fall in love with you every moment for that.
Because you look at me that way.
Because you hold me that way- and I know that you need me, but you never force me to be more than I can be at any moment.
Because you know that sometimes I need to finish vacuuming the house, so you get the girls in the car and give my knee a squeeze when I get in.
Because you never question why I did something, you just swoop in and fix it.
Because you make me whole.
You make me whole.
I hope you’re reading this and laughing at any grammatical errors, because you always read what I write.
I love you. For the past 8 years. And for the next 800.
We are never going to be twenty and thirty something, roaming city streets, holding hands, slightly drunk- both on each other and a good whiskey… but… we’ll always be us. I’m just a girl, standing in front of a who group of readers. Professing my love. Forever.
Happy 8 years being stuck with me.