Thank you...

My Sweet Husband,

I went to the store to find you a card this morning. I spent an hour reading and re-reading every anniversary card available. And you know what? They sucked. None of them came even the slightest bit close to expressing how truly and deeply I love you. Not a single one could properly convey just how much being your wife means to me. No card could really say how thrilling, comforting, and awe-inspiring the past three years have been.


There isn't an employee at Hallmark or American Greetings or Papyrus that understands how lucky I am to have you. But how could they? How could they know the pure unabashed joy that is waking up to your face every morning? How could they possibly get the enormity of the hurdles we've bridged together? How could they ever realize what it really means to fall more in love with your best friend every day? I can hardly put it into my words myself.

So I walked out, sans anniversary card and decided to write you a letter instead. A thank-you letter.

Thank you....

For being the best possible version of yourself for me, just as you vowed three years ago. For every morning, every day, every night you've loved and accepted me. For pushing me harder than anyone ever has. For letting me do the same to you.

Thank you...

For having the patience of a saint. I'm not easy to live with. We both know this. But every day, your gentle patience and encouragement just plain floors me. Whether it's my hemming and hawing over swtiching careers, my hesitation to risk leaving the Valley, my many failed attempts to quit smoking, my special brand of mood swings, or just waiting for me to realize that Dr. Who is in fact one of the best TV shows ever made (there, I publicly admitted it), your tolerance has never wavered.

Thank you...

For pushing me to follow my dreams, no matter how often they change. For helping me figure out what kind of woman I want to be and doing everything and then some to get me there. For pushing me to test my limits and step out of my comfort zone. For loving me in spite and because of my baggage.

Thank you...

For knowing when to call me on my shit and when to bite your tongue. For understanding me better than anyone in the universe, even when I make absolutely no sense. For killing the spiders, moving the furniture (repeatedly), and enduring marathon visits to Target. For being the best taste-tester and sometimes fibbing when I flub a recipe to make me feel better. ("No really, it's good." Uh-huh.) For hiding your boredom in Living Spaces. For still always holding my hand.

Thank you...

For never letting the romance die. For every impromptu date night, weekend getaway, dance party and adventure. For getting lost with me. For finding me when I get lost in myself. For showing me the world...both physically and through your eyes. For making me swoon even in the most mundane moments. For making me laugh. For letting me in. For never giving up. 

Thank you...

For all of it. Every kiss, hug, giggle, sigh, tear, minute, week, year. "Every word."

I love you.