Have you been properly introduced to my man?
He's on the taller side of life, which is exactly right because my head fits perfectly into the nook of his neck. He's quick to laugh, and even quicker to extend a hand. He's loyal to the ends of the world.
He thinks his face is crooked, but I disagree. I think it's full of mischief. But he does have a terrible poker face - the twinkle in his eyes gives him away every time. His fingers are a bit knobby - back from the days of basketball and busted knuckles - but they are all man. His neck is always tan. He has a scar on his stomach from a barbed wire incident as a child. He's always had sexy calves, you know, those good looking soccer-esc man-calves.
The man loves mustard and salami, classic mustangs, t-shirts and jeans, West Side Story, camping in the deep woods, fishing with a flask in hand, dinning out (multiple restaurants in one day are no foreign concept), Irish whiskey, practical jokes and baseball. And games, GOOD LORD does he like games. Of all kinds, of any kind. I think his love language might be the playing king of hearts. Plus he's terribly indulgent when it comes to photoshoots.
When we met, all I knew was I wanted to ride in that red Jeep with that cute boy through the hot valley summer, wherever we might end up. Little did sixteen year-old me know then that place would be here and now. Little did I know that he would be my rock of strength and my featherbed of safety, that we would change and shift and grow like two trees planted close whose branches intertwine and whose roots share the same wellspring. Little did I know then that I had already met my soul mate.
And now, Nine years after we said "I do" I still wouldn't change a thing about him.
I love you forever and always and to the end.