To my wife… on our wedding anniversary:

You’re the best thing that has ever, or will ever happen to me.
You’re a pain in the ass.
You’re caring.
You’re frustrating.
You’re kind.
You’re demanding.
You’re beautiful.
You’re stubborn.
You’re perfect.
You don’t know(or refuse to accept) how beautiful you are.  You just doesn’t believe it.  That only makes me tell you more.  You not thinking you’re beautiful just makes you more beautiful… and a tad frustrating for me.  I want you to see what I see, but at the same time I want to keep what I see all to myself.  I’m kidding myself though… because anyone who spends a moment with you will know what I get to spend a lifetime with.

I appreciate every moment.  Even the moments you asks me to take the garbage out or clean up the dog puke.  It may not be immediately apparent, but there’s appreciation there.

We are the definition of opposites.  And that’s fine.  You probably never thought she’s fall in love with a dude who still has the Voltron action figure he got on his 9th birthday.  A man that lives for 1970’s funk music, silent comedies, the early space program and Hootie and the Blowfish.  A man that paints clouds on the shed… and the garage door, and the garage wall, and the fence, and the gate and the ceilings.  A man who buys light sabers, eats gummy worms by the bucket, drinks diet soda by the gallon and whose best friend is an imaginary talking squirrel.

You once told me you went for the weird ones.  I’m not sure who you’re talking about but obviously you didn’t mean me. 🙂

It’s taken me two years to finally get comfortable calling you my wife.  Not because I didn’t want to… but because I still couldn’t believe it was true.  It is true.  Boy, is it true.

There’s a big difference between love and romance.  Romance is great and wonderful but it’s like the petals of a sunflower.  You nurture the plant for weeks in anticipation of seeing the bright yellow petals reach for the sky.  They bloom and stay for a while, but eventually wither and fall away… leaving the sunflower seeds behind.  Those seeds are love.  Love is planted and grows and grows… building off of each season… always there, always providing, always replenishing.  Without love, there is no romance.

Love is working at your drawing board all evening and you bringing a brownie… just because.  To be fair that brownie was accompanied by an order form for Lauren’s 2017 yearbook.  But the brownie was good.  Really good.

You know me and I know you.  I’m lucky.  We’re lucky.  Very lucky.

Happy anniversary sweetheart.  I love you more than you know.

Thanks for the brownie.