I love you

Dear Love,

Happy 24th birthday! You are almost an antique! I promise I’m not trying to be ridiculously weird by bringing this up again, and I also promise not to say this on your 25th birthday, upon which you will actually become an antique. Really. 

So, this is the third birthday I’ve spent with you. And once again, I’m amazingly thankful that your birthday falls right next to Christmas, so I can be horribly confused as to what to get you only once-ish a year. Guys are hard to shop for and you are not the exception to that rule, much to my despair.

I get all tongue tied when I try to talk or write about how I feel about you, or about us. But here goes.

My favorite memories are built around you. My future is brighter because I see you in it. You hold my hand when I get angry or sad. You love me past all my insecurities and problems. I always want you on my side, especially during a zombie apocalypse. You make me smile even when I don’t want to. You are my best friend in everything. I love that we fight one minute and you can have me smiling 20 seconds later. You catch me when I fall down. You run behind me and keep me going (although I’m not entirely convinced your motivation for running behind me is totally pure and innocent). I love spending my time with you and I would all day if I could.  I miss you when you aren’t here. You are a great daddy, Michael and that is a wonderful thing.

I find it amazing that I’m with the person I want to spend the rest of my life with right now. How many people are that lucky? I can’t wait to marry you and live with you and grow old with you. You are my favorite person and I love you now and I’ll love you forever.

Happy birthday Michael.

Love,
Megan

Ps. Please don’t ever ask for a pony, because I’m not sure I could handle that.













I hid under your porch because I love you.

I found the one whom my soul loves.

~Song of Solomon 3:4
This is my beloved and this is my friend.

~Song of Solomon 5:16
…You alone are the sources of my grief,
you alone can grant the grace of consolation.
You alone have the power to make me sad,
to make me happy or to console me…
I never wanted anything in you
but you alone,
nothing of what you have
but you yourself,
~Heloise, in her letter to Peter Abelard