I love my man. He’s not perfect, but he’s all mine.
I think about how imperfect I am as his wife and how thankful I am that he loves me. He still loves me after all these years. I remember when we were dating and upon my first discovery that he loved me. I’d be going about my day and suddenly I’d think – “Someone loves me. HE loves me! He really loves me!” And a huge smile would spread across my face. It made me feel so good.
And it still does.
Sometimes my husband will tenderly touch my face at night. I’m barely awake…but I still know. I love it when he does that. I feel so cherished. So loved.
My man is about as bright as they come. Yet he still can’t seem to figure me out. That amuses me and perplexes me at the same time.
My man doesn’t trust easily. It takes him weighing someone heavily in his heart and mind (and a good deal of time observing them in life) before he will trust them with the deeper thoughts of his heart. So I treasure the fact that he talks to me. Sometimes he talks a lot. Long. In-depth. He trusts me. He asks for my opinion. Mine of all things! (He’s the bright one!)
Some days we feel “off.” Some days we feel “in-sync.” I feel like I was so naïve when I got married. There was so much more I needed to know. I should have known. And here we are. We’ve gone through some tough battles together. There were moments where it felt like we were taking on the world alone…he – and – I. And we made it. We survived each one.