I've said this before..
I've said this before, usually with sarcasm, but the sentiment remains the same, I love my husband. He has patience and understanding when I have one of my moments, weeks whatever you want to call them. See he loves me. Not just the me with the make up on and the hair done up, not the me that remembers all his favorite foods or what he likes on his hotdogs, but the me that crawls out of bed with morning breath. The me that locks my keys in the vehicle while it's running on a frigid cold day and he has to come bring the spare set to let me in. Or the me that covered the remote, couch and pillows in Elmers Glue because I wanted to let it dry on my hand and peel it off but the top came off and glue went every where.
Or the me who cries over a movie she's seen ten times before and he says do you think it was going to end differently this time? But holds me and lets me cry anyway. I'm all about being me all the time and he's good with that. He doesn't expect me to be anything but me. In return, I do the same for him, even when he's snoring when I'm trying to sleep or when he gets on his rant about the dreaded Black Ice. When he gets on his kicks were he'll only eat donuts or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Or when he needs to lock the door three times or when we have to leave a mixed martial arts fight night before the first fight because his back and arm are killing him. It's all about the sickness and in health, good and bad, in it for the long haul. It means even the bumps and uglies, you still love each other. Even when I get all short tempered and lose my shit, he may not like what I'm saying or doing, but he still loves me. We are both very lucky people to have found each other in this big old crazy world. The next time he goes on about the high mileage on our truck or the fact that someone ate all the corn dogs, which would be HIM, I'll try to remember this, that underneath it all, we're good!
Or the me who cries over a movie she's seen ten times before and he says do you think it was going to end differently this time? But holds me and lets me cry anyway. I'm all about being me all the time and he's good with that. He doesn't expect me to be anything but me. In return, I do the same for him, even when he's snoring when I'm trying to sleep or when he gets on his rant about the dreaded Black Ice. When he gets on his kicks were he'll only eat donuts or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Or when he needs to lock the door three times or when we have to leave a mixed martial arts fight night before the first fight because his back and arm are killing him. It's all about the sickness and in health, good and bad, in it for the long haul. It means even the bumps and uglies, you still love each other. Even when I get all short tempered and lose my shit, he may not like what I'm saying or doing, but he still loves me. We are both very lucky people to have found each other in this big old crazy world. The next time he goes on about the high mileage on our truck or the fact that someone ate all the corn dogs, which would be HIM, I'll try to remember this, that underneath it all, we're good!
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