ten years

If you had told me that when I was 18 years old I was going to meet the man I'd be with forever I would've not only laughed at you, but I would have run screaming. I did not want to be serious with anyone. The only person I'd ever been serious with was my high school boyfriend and that was far from a healthy relationship.

And yet, ten years later there is a man sleeping on my sofa after working all day who wakes up just enough to tell me that he loves me before falling back asleep.

I love him, too.

You will never hear me say that my marriage or relationship is perfect. It isn't. Oh lord, it is the furthest thing from perfect imaginable. But it's good and that's all I need. It's good and happy and full of laughter. Nine days out of ten he's my best friend in the world. Even on that one day when I want to shake him and kick him in the knee I'm still glad I married the jerk.

My husband is my opposite. When I am UP and MOVING and LOUD he is calm and relaxed and quiet. I want to tell the entire world what I think of them and he's okay with only talking to a few close friends and family. I want to see things and learn things and explore and in that he is my equal. He challenges me to think, but more importantly he's taught me how to feel. He's taught me how to love unconditionally. I never struggled with pushing myself. I'm okay with learning something new and I live for understanding a new concept. But emotions? Deep, powerful emotions that leave me vulnerable and exposed? I would rather chew my own arm off.

Except he makes me feel those things. And it's for that reason alone I'm still with him. Because no matter how hard it is or how much I want to shank him on some days when he's sitting on the computer and ignoring me entirely.. I remember that he wakes up just to tell me that he loves me.

And I love him, too.