I love my husband.
I don't often make this proclamation out loud to a crowd of people, but not because I want to keep it private or, God forbid, am ashamed. The reason is simple. When people see us together, there really isn't any need for a declaration of love. They can see it in the way we smile at each other. The way I stroke his arm or the soft movement he makes of pushing my wild mane out of my eyes. If they catch us looking at each other with no realization of what's going on around us, there is no need for further confirmation. We have been in deep, passionate love for over five years. Our love is not finite.
Living with each other has sometimes proven to be difficult. He's a hot-tempered, full-blooded Italian and I am a stubborn, fiery half-blood Scot. Prevalent in the beginning, but throughout many periods of our life together, we have encountered problems with no foreseeable resolution and took our fears and stress out on each other. Before we learned to efficiently communicate without raising the decibals of our voices, our relationship was put to the test countless times by not only outside forces, but our own. After awhile, he and I both started to file the little problems away and figured out how to handle them as they came. We started sitting down to discuss our feelings without shouting and not long after, our life evened out. Even when we moved to New York, we went months without a single serious fight. When we had one, it ended quicker than any before it, and for the very first time,
I came to
him to apologize. I stopped hurting him to make myself feel vindicated. We haven't had anything more than a typical non-threatening marital fight since then, and even those fights are rare.
I do not know how he planted himself firmly by my side for so long. I am starting to be more forgiving of myself now, even trying to understand why he still stands by me. I genuinely give back to this marriage, even though I did not before. I was selfish and full of pride up until a year and a half ago, and looking back, I am tremendously awed at the fact that he never left me. He never hurt me beyond words no harsher than my own, and he has never let me give up on myself. He held me while I screamed and cried both during my sleep and when I have been angry with him. He has been the epitome of unconditional love during our entire relationship. When he drove sixteen hours in the dead of night just to hold me for twelve hours after a life-rocking event, I knew I would be his wife. There are so many things, both minuscule and monumental, that he has done to prove there is no better husband in this universe. It would take me until the end of days to record them.
Aside from being a loving husband, he is a hardworking man. I have never met someone who has worked so hard in his life. My husband gets up every day at 5:30 in the morning and works until bed time at 11:00 at night. He is constantly finding new ways to improve our life and to make his career a fulfilling one. It breaks my heart when he gets negative and has been beaten down one too many times. I ache each time I see him come home without a smile and humor in those blazing green-gold eyes of his. I love to see him happy, and I will forever be impressed by how hard he works. When he has had a hard day, he goes to bed and starts the new day with fresh eyes and new ideas. Even if I don't understand half the things he is saying, I enjoy watching his eyes light up when he talks about some random HTML thing he's done for our real estate team website and database. The man is a bloody genius. He is very well-spoken, incredibly intelligent, and a bit of a smart-ass. He has the entirety of Manhattan memorized, which has garnered him the name of The Walking Map, and without looking it up, he can tell you exactly which bus, train, or transfer you must take in order to get to where you are going. He understands the inner workings of things and has the utmost respect of everyone in our office. He does not accomplish any of these things by taking days off and hoping things will fall in line for him. He makes life happen.
Fred,
I know things can be hard for us. I know it is hard to feel like you cannot provide for your family the way a man should. But you are the only one who has ever felt that way; I have never entertained such a ridiculous notion. You are all the things a man should be, more than any other husband could hope to be, and everything I have ever needed you to be. It is impossible for me to look at you without feeling my entire body swell with love, respect and adoration. You do the dishes because it calms you, and drag the laundry down the block because I hate it. You put up with problems you don't need to because you know it brings peace to me, and walk our dog in the morning because I have blood sugar issues. You try giving me the last bite of dessert, but I always split it into tiny halves and trick you. You let our dog curl up between us during a thunderstorm, and let her sleep in your spot in the morning to keep me from being alone, even though you hate her near your pillow. You do so many things that others don't even think of. I pay attention, though. I notice everything. I don't just count the large things; the smaller ones mean even more to me. Large things show me that you are capable of pulling off something impressive and romantic. Small things tell me that our marriage means the world to you and deserves constant love and nurturing. I prefer the consistent nourishment that the little things provide. You give everything we could ever need, and for that, you will always have my gratitude.
I love my husband. I love every inch of him, throughout the inner workings of his body to the soft pores of his skin. He is the reason why our life will always be a blessed one. He is the reason why we are destined for great things.
