I'm British. I keep my emotions in check. I don't gush. I also don't participate in or encourage public displays of affection. I'm private. It might have less to do with being British than it does with being a quiet, shy child uncomfortable under supervision. Either way, I keep myself to myself, unless you're a good friend and then you probably wish I kept more to myself than I do when we're in private.
This is going somewhere, I promise. Just hang on.
It occurred to me as I was heading into the kitchen for a bowl of Reeses Peanut Butter Puffs that love is not like a flower (red, red rose). My love is actually like a weed. It's out of control, grows like nothing else, strangles anything that gets in it's way. It's powerful and unruly!
Then when I was putting my cereal box back on the shelf I thought about how regularly people will comment on how well Stuart and I go together. With how private I am it's kind of sneaky for anyone to actually see exactly how I feel about him but the truth is we are completely and utterly right for each other.
I obviously love him but what you don't know is that I struggle finding the right words to accurately express it to him. I get frustrated with "I love you". How on earth can those words be right when I love him a bajillion times more now than I did when I first said them?
Within my hard shell there's an extremely sappy core - literally and figuratively but I'm talking figuratively right now. I would do absolutely anything for that big lout. I get up at 6am to put his lunch together and set out anything he needs for the day whilst he's getting cleaned up and ready. I wave him off every morning and then sit for 10 minutes feeling sad that he's gone. When he is home I ask him every 30 minutes if he's ok and if he needs anything. If he needs anything I go get it, promptly and happily. We say "I love you" to each other about 47 times a day, randomly and the response is always surprised and gleeful, like it's the first time we've ever heard those words from each other.
He makes it easy to love him that much. When his alarm goes off in the morning he hits snooze and then curls up around me. He kisses me at least 3 times before he leaves the house. He waves vigorously as he drives off and three seconds later my phone buzzes and there's an "I love you" text. At night one of two things is likely to happen. 1) I fall asleep on the couch. 2) He has to study late and I need to go to bed. If I fall asleep on the couch I magically wake up in bed. He is magic. If I need to go to bed before him he takes me to bed, tucks me in and says a prayer before leaving. He's my anchor. We sometimes wake up holding hands. Even asleep we can't get enough of each other! How cheesy! I LOVE cheese!
He is it for me and I'm so confused about how it even happened, how I let myself become so dependent on someone else. I'm baffled by the amount of love I'm capable of how and how it keeps rapidly growing. He makes me so happy.
So I suppose I'm not really surprised by how obvious it is that we're perfect for each other. I don't think the love has anywhere left to go except out into the open, that's what weeds do. All this lovey-dovey stuff is certainly not to say that we don't argue or fight because we do, regularly. That crazy love is stronger though. We're both believers in constructive arguing and are on the same page when it comes to disagreeing - in the long run a lot of stuff just doesn't matter. That concept might entail a whole different post but I hope there's other people out there who have this same relationship with their lovers - I wish all of you do! Disagreeing and arguing isn't the end of it. Balanced compromise and love are fine solutions to disagreeing. Balance is so important. There's two on this team and we both share the load.
I love Love. I love us.
And really, who doesn't love dandelions?
Mindy Gledhill's song All About Your Heart goes perfectly with everything I feel about Stuart. It actually sparked this whole pondering of love off.