8 years, 2 kids, countless sleepless nights, loads of laundry, bills, traumatic events, surgeries, fights, and deep conversations together.
I used to think romance was flowers, staring into each others eyes, and talking for hours.
Boy do I know different now.
Romance is wonderful. But it's definition is flawed.
Romance is a man who hangs a fresh towel for me when mine is stinky- because he knows I will just keep using it to save time.
It's a man who will get up and make lunches, kiss little heads good morning, and keep little voices quiet so I can sleep for 30 more minutes.
It's the way he listens to me, no matter how small or big my issue is.
It's the memory of him cradling our babies, changing their diapers, and helping me to sit up and latch them on when I was exhausted from birth.
It's the way I feel when I am wounded, and he is the only one I want.
It's bear hugs and kisses when I am pouty and difficult.
It's the way he makes me laugh when I take him with me to scary doctors appointments.
Romance is laughing until we cry over the stupidest inside jokes.
It's calling him moose and him calling me goober.
It's watching him through the window as I make dinner, and he plays with the kids outside.
Romance is the way my girlfriends all love him and know they can depend on him.
It's waking up to his face after surgery.
It's his hand in mine as we walked the halls and waited for our babies to come.
Romance is a man who holds you as you are ripped apart with contractions and birth. Who looks into your eyes and lies that the pain is almost over, almost over.
It's a man who buries your small miscarried son while you sob.
Romance is someone who loves your soul. Not just the body that houses it.
Mark and I have fought hard for our relationship. It's not always been easy. It's not always been fun. We've both grown and changed. Through babies and job changes and death and grief and sickness we have held firm onto one thing- we will always and forver love each other. Our love will always be the shelter we both run to when the world hurts or confuses us. I know I can always stand behind my husband and he will forever protect me. He knows I will always support and uphold him.
Through the rest of our lives he will infuriate me. I will be stubborn and yell. He will be quiet and laugh at me when I get angry. We will walk through every change together. Every milestone, every moment will be ours to share.
So give me mornings of coffee and the news while our kids run around us. Give me fleeting conversations as we dress in the morning. Give me shared glances across the dinner table. Phone calls from different cities. Give me he tears and the frustration and the coming back together. Give me nights spent apart missing him. And nights together as his hand searches for mine in the dark, even in sleep. Give me laughing until we cry. Tea and television. Foot rubs and back scratches.
Give me him. Forever and for always.
