Ok wifey, we are here again. Your birthday and our anniversary and I'm left stitching words together hoping they make sense. Hoping that they can somehow justify how I feel. So instead of writing a poem, letter, or something fancy. I'm just going to “rant” it out; and pray you can make sense out some of it.
I don't how it works in other marriages but this husband still daydreams about making love to you as if I've never made love to you before. As if you're making me wait to make sure that I'm the “one” lol. I get excited when I know you're about to get out the shower and freaking insane when we get to schedule one of our Motor City Casino Hotel outings. You are Krazy glue holding together emotional and mental parts of me that I'm sure you didn't know you reached. You are so much more than my backbone- you are my fucking esophagus. You frustrate me like no other. I have to love you because if I didn't; I wouldn't give a damn that you frustrate me. I hate your opinion; mostly because you're right. You're right very often and that frustrates me. I'm your husband. I only want you to be right when you are agreeing with me. Lol But the times you are right, are the times that I need you to be right and that shit is priceless. I love you for that. I know a good wife is supposed to be her husband's rock, but this is ridiculous. You are my boulder. I almost feel guilty as if I'm getting too much out the deal and not giving enough (notice I said almost-lol). I wouldn't be the parent I am without you. I wouldn’t be the man I am without you. You support me when you don't even understand me half the time. You look after me even when you want to kill me half the time. You are my hot-n-ready. If its one second left on the shot clock– you're taking my last shot. If its fourth and goal – you're my Calvin Johnson. I don't even count years any more; I just know I want them to keep coming. I just know I want us to keep going. Where I'm at is where I want to be. Despite what I say in the mist of a argument – I want you to stay who you are. You are my favorite record, my best friend, my creatine, my pack of fudge striped cookies all rolled up into one. My blanket, my grand ma's Inpatients, my super fluffy pillow, the tattoo on the inside, the drizzle I lick off my lips, the ultimate body glove, wine and symphony, Hennessy and sonnets – you are the novel I always wanted to write but never could figure out ways to get the words out. I fucking love you Latasha Davison.
Okay, this rant is over. I'm not even going to proof read this. Raw, passionate, confusing and all heart – just like us baby. Just like us.
Happy anniversary and happy birthday