Michael.
Duh.
No, really ... we've both forbidden each other from dying or anything.
Because neither one of us wants to dive into that fresh hell that is the world of dating.
Because neither one of us wants to dive into that fresh hell that is the world of dating.
And, really. Who else could I ever find that'd put up with the amount of crazy that I am?
Let alone who would profess ENJOYING it. :P
Let alone who would profess ENJOYING it. :P
He knows all my faults.
And he accepts them.
And he still loves me.
Even when I'm hormonal/crazy/upset/sad.
And he accepts them.
And he still loves me.
Even when I'm hormonal/crazy/upset/sad.
And he puts up with my Grammar-Nazi tendencies.
And my idiosyncrasies.
And my idiosyncrasies.
Also, he's a GOOD KISSER.
I'm so not giving THAT up.
I'm so not giving THAT up.
I consider it quite the feather in my cap that I was able to end up with a man who's practically perfect in every way ... and the things that he thinks aren't perfect?
Are extra endearing.
(Seriously? Snark apparently is the way to my heart.)
Are extra endearing.
(Seriously? Snark apparently is the way to my heart.)
I still don't always get why he loves me so ...
But I'm REALLY glad that he does.
But I'm REALLY glad that he does.
He's an awesome husband, father, and engineer.
He makes REALLY CUTE kids.
He sticks up for me.
He's my sounding board.
He's also my best friend.
Things are always better when he's around.
And I'm sure glad for that.
He makes REALLY CUTE kids.
He sticks up for me.
He's my sounding board.
He's also my best friend.
Things are always better when he's around.
And I'm sure glad for that.
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