I know that, over time, a lot of people take a romantic partner for granted. It's easy to do in this life with its hectic trappings.
But somehow, even as time passes, I find myself more enchanted than ever, if such a thing is even possible.
He is the last (and sometimes the only) touch in my soul before sleep takes me, and is the first most welcome thought in the morning.
It's the sweeping, amazing things...like his incredible strength in times of strain, a strength he lends freely to those he loves...his patience...his ability to see what other people miss. Encouragement...self-sacrifice...determination...gentleness...stability.
And it's the smaller things that aren't really so small after all. Caring about my day, even when it's virtually the same as the one that came before it. Not taking a bad day out on me even when it would be easy to lash out at everyone within striking range. Making time to talk amidst the chaos. Humoring my silly moments -- and there are a lot of those!
In short, he is the difference between existing and living. Between drifting and knowing my course (and having the courage to steer where I desire to go). Between that incredible, sharply constant loneliness...and a fulfillment, a rightness, a completion I could never have fathomed before.
I was not a weak person before him. But the strength of one, stretched across all areas of life, pales in comparison to strength more than doubled by a true companion's loving presence. Just knowing he's there is a comfort and a help on difficult days. What did I ever do without him?
I could go on (forever!) but little one is asking for lunch. So I guess I'll just say that I know I never did anything, in this lifetime or any other, that made me worthy of someone like that -- and I won't take him for granted. He is rare and precious, my joyful river, mirror of my soul, and I'm grateful every day for yet another day of love, even when surrounding circumstances are rough.



