Every night that we’re together, and most nights when we’re apart, we talk as we drift to sleep. Or rather, you talk, and I fall asleep. I fall asleep when my feet get warm and I’ve heard your soothing voice. After that, you tell me, you realize I’m asleep and only then do you fall asleep yourself. You make me feel comfy and cozy and warm and safe.
We’ve built a lot of routines during our years together. I do the bills, you do the vacuuming, we fold clothing together. You’ve worked around my annoying habits, and hopefully now find them endearing. I know I love your eccentricities– the way you have of hobby jumping every few months, your goofy sense of humor (even the horrific puns!), especially the crinkle you get next to your eyes when you’re about to be extra-silly.
These patterns of comfort remind us we’re working together to create a tapestry of life. If we’re being metaphorical.
And the intertwined paths of our lives are not at all boring. Our well traveled rhythms still provide plenty of excitement. Even as we dance our familiar patterns, things change as the children come into being and grow older. Our routines spiral into something familiar and something new.
Every year with you is wonderful, every month, every day, every hour, every minute. I can not think of anybody with whom I would rather tread familiar paths or explore new places.
As you’ve heard me say before and as I will say again, many times a day for the rest of our lives, I love you so much. I’m so lucky to have met you and to have you for my own.