ya’ll, seriously. that man gives me the butterflies as if they were usual, as if it were sane. Every time he comes into my life (which means most nights, and the mornings that follow.. because.. you know… I’m married to him) I just drop my jaw a little and think “danng girl you’re a lucky one” and I’m right. I. am. so right. he straight up loves me — all the time — even when I suck — like when I’m complain-y about his job, or about my job, or about this state, or about the wars, or about the lack thereof. The man doesn’t flinch, he just loves me. And when I rock — like when I do the dishes, or the laundry (funny), or make him smile with my own stupidity — he loves me then too.
He’s gone for the week, but I’m not worried. He’ll be ok, and I’ll be ok. and we’ll be ok apart (we’ve done apart before) and then — when he comes home again — we’ll be amazing again, just like normal.
I am one of those girls — the kind that just can’t stop talking about this guy I know — and I married him and in a few months, we’ll have been married for 2 years… and you know what? I love him more than I did 2 years ago, I still trip over my words and blush around him, and I always want for him to think that I’m cool. And even though I’m a dork… I think he might love me back (almost) as much.