Seven years ago today, M and I decided that “just being friends” wasn’t really something we were interested in, and made the critical leap to actual coupledom, rather than just two people flirting with the idea of dating.
As soon as I met M, something in me recognized something in him. I can’t explain it. I won’t even do it the injustice of trying, because all the phrases sound so…overused. Was it love at first sight? No. I don’t think so. I didn’t love him the minute I laid eyes on him. I didn’t even lust after him the first time I laid eyes on him. What I did do was decide almost instantly that this was a man I wanted to know better. Much better. And I had a hunch that once I did that, I’d never want to be with anyone else.
Love came fast, and love came hard. Within a month I knew I wanted to marry him. The tricky part was convincing him that he wanted to marry me. 😉
So here’s to the man who makes my toes curl (in a good way) when he kisses me; who gets up with Linnea in the middle of the night and the wee smas so that I can sleep; who kills bugs and fixes clogged drains; who helped me with any and all manner of personal hygene when I was too pregnant to do it myself; who can tell by a look when my world is all off-kilter and who can make it right again just by putting his hand on the small of my back; who lets me see him at his weakest and most vulnerable; who tells me I’m a goddess; who cried when our daughter was born; who isn’t afraid to tell me when I’m out of line; who loves me for and in spite of who I am; who spoke his wedding vows so loudly, clearly, and emphatically that I knew without any shadow of any doubt that we were doing the right thing:
I love you.