He always kisses me good morning and good night and often times in between.
He will stay awake with me when I'm commiserating about my awful cough and allergy mess and suffers through it instead of making me be alone and awake at 5:00am. And he doesn't think I'm ridiculous or dumb for crying about the fact that I can't breathe through my right nostril.
He always, always holds my hand. Any chance he can get.
He always gives Tommy a bath for me and takes out the trash and washes the cars and kills the bugs because he knows I don't really like to do any of those things.
He usually puts gas in my car so I don't have to do it and it makes me feel like a princess.
He doesn't freak out when I spend a little too much money at Hobby Lobby to do silly things like make yarn wreaths.
He only flinches a little when I tell him I want to change a paint color in the laundry room because I don't like it anymore. And then he'll paint it and give me his beaming smile when it's a new color because he knows how happy he's made me.
He never makes me worry that he's being unfaithful or dishonest. He is trustworthy - and he's trustworthy even in the places that I'm still trying to trust him in.
He gives me permission to talk about my feelings and doesn't condemn me when I have to own up to something that I've done.
He calms me when I get worried.
He tells me how much he loves my boobs even though they're giant and pregnant and I kind of hate them very much. He makes me feel good about myself and doesn't let me heap contempt all over my body.
He has the very best smile and the very best butt and he is so very good-looking and how did I score such a hottie?
He cares and he loves and he does and he is - all of the things that I never knew I would need.
And though he's not perfect, after all, he rarely picks up his socks. But he's all mine. And today I am very grateful for the man that I get to share my life with.
(Even if it is at 5:00am and I only have one working nostril and we would both rather be sleeping.)