My husband is the most amazing man the world has ever known (with a possible exception, on principle, of Christ).
He's sleeping over there on the sofa and I just want to go wake him up for a kiss. (Again.) Because I love him so much. He is sweet and sexy and fun and just a little nerdy and a bit more goofballish and patient and kind and brilliant and charming and humble. And that's off the top of my head. If I need to add to my word count I'll just come back to this paragraph and think a little more.
Today is our wedding anniversary. (I actually was thinking "this Saturday is our wedding anniversary" and then I realized that it IS Saturday now!) Six years, and we still twinkle at each other so much that servers regularly ask us if we want to split the check.
Mostly I don't have regrets in life, but one possible one is that we were "old" before we met. I mean, not old-old, but ... there were quite a few potentially-married years there. But then maybe if we'd met earlier things would've been different... WE would've been different... and it wouldn't've worked out. Which obviously would have been WORSE. Of course, though, I wouldn't've known it was worse. I wouldn't've known what I was missing. Which is scary, kind of.
I think I've told the story before, but I'm too lazy to go search through Epic Adventures, about how we met and I flat-out told him that I wasn't interested in any kind of serious relationship. Not with anyone - even him. (I was quite content as a single girl... it was kinda fun!) Just hooking up, cuz he was sexy and fun. And sweet.
But the more I got to know him, the more my subconscious started kicking the other parts of my brain, saying DON'T BE A COMPLETE IDIOT! It's not even like he actively DID anything to try to change my mind. He was just himself, and I kept waiting to find "the snake in the cookie jar." (My exact phrase, I swear.)
It didn't take too long for me to decide that even if I found something major later on, he was still worth it. (He proposed to me less than six months after we met and it felt like I had to wait FOR FRIKKIN EVER.) That was on Valentine's Day, 2004. Exactly half a year later (six months to the day!), we got married.
If you're reading this, you probably know me already through my online persona, at least to some degree. You know I'm not a romantic. I'm thoroughly practical. It was completely a practical decision. Sometimes I feel guilty (yes, literally guilty) because I'm NOT romantic and I took the best guy out of the picture for everyone else. On a regular basis, I wince and then apologize telepathically to every other woman on the planet because... I know I don't deserve him, but he offered, and I wasn't so dumb or so altruistic that I'd say no!
I love my Hunk! Many happy returns, baby. :)