Today, I sent my man this text: "When I hear love songs, I always think of you." After he sent a text asking how many glasses of wine I'd had (not being cruel, I'm just not usually that nice to him, lol), he replied, "I love you too." And I know he means it.
We've been through it all--break ups, make ups, noble denial, decadent submission, running, chasing, working to make it work and all the ordinary boring times in between. But at the end of the day, he's the one I want to steal the covers from in the middle of the night and I know we'll grow old together. Now, come on, Cindy, you say. In this day and age, no one really knows that, do they? Well, I do. And here's why: I crave him like chocolate and I've loved chocolate all my life. When he's away, I miss him like my best friend from grade school and she and I have been friends for 25 years. When he's mad about something, I'm mad for him. When he's sad, I want to kiss it and make it better. When he's getting dressed, I can't take my eyes off him. He's deeply flawed, but I've made my peace with his flaws and he's made his peace with mine...sort of, lol. And when we fight (and yes, we DO fight. A LOT), we do it with anger and passion and spite and lots of door slamming. Only someone I care about so much could piss me off so badly.
A couple months ago he told me, "I can't see my future without you in it." It's the same for me. Could I be happy with someone else? Probably. But would I feel like I'm living some kind of Nora Roberts novel. I doubt it. I'm not sure I believe in soul mates, but I do know this: Before I met him, I thought Train's "Drops of Jupiter" was a stupid song (my apologies to Train). Now when I hear it I sport a knowing half-smile because I get it. And I get him which makes me feel like the luckiest gal in the world.