WIITL

Almost every time I can count on you; I say almost because sometimes I only need me when duty calls.

It’s when you say “we” in conversation.

I knew it was genuine when you told me you check on me and I cried like a baby.

What is it to love?

It’s waking up to you with hot cocoa at bedside on a cold autumn morning.

Holding your hand like my life depended on it…

But it does depend on it…doesn’t it? Because when I’m at my worst-and babe you’ve seen the worst-you’re there to hold my hand and tell me I can get through it and I’m not alone.

What is it to love?

When I didn’t want to, I had to love because you needed me to.

Is it when we argue about stupid shit and then you’re quick to apologize when I’m the one who should apologize.

You show up; when I or anybody else needs you. But I hope you know-I too, will always show up, for you.

It’s when you get soup and my favorite things when I’m sick, without me asking; because you’ve once again put me before yourself.

When I told you the hardest thing to admit you still showed me unconditional love and support and I can’t believe you’re still by

my side.

I hope resentment is not a friend to time.

What is it to love?

It’s learning to be loved by the one who doesn’t need to rationalize why they do—because there are too many reasons.

It’s the way you smile when you’re keeping a secret and I’ve called you out on it-Christmas, birthdays & anniversaries.

What is it to love?

Just existing with you. Even if it means just being in the same space but us doing separate things. I’m happy just being….

It’s when you see a rock and you think of me and bring it home. And it’s me hearing a song and knowing you can play and sing it better-your voice is my favorite after all. You’re the first person I want to tell any kind of news to and the only one I trust.

It’s those soft kisses on the forehead in the morning while I am awake enough to tell it’s real.

When you say, “my wife”.

No, it cannot be measured, injected, or counted; it’s every cliché that has ever been spoken and written. It’s timeless, honest, warm, terrifying-Worth it. Yours is my favorite kind of love.