Half way down this road, I can look back and say it's been pretty easy to fall in love. It's the landing that's bumpy -- the workday exhaustion, the bills to pay, the artful in-laws, the different dreams, the flashes of disappointment, the words spoken that can't be taken back. When lying in the rough, at the edge of happiness, it's the little things that sustain us, the daily valentines that allow us to wake up next to each other without regret. So simple, yet impossible.
How do I love thee, Ranger?
- I love that every time we get in the car, you kiss my hand as if we were launching into space or pioneering across a great divide, not just going to buy dog food.
- I love that you insisted on calling me your girlfriend long after I kept calling you "this guy I know."
- I love that you make me take my vitamins.
- I love that you're a nature boy and that you rented "The Pelican Brief" because you thought it was about pelicans.
- I love that you stepped up to my brother's coffin and said, "I'm sorry we never got to know each other, but I promise you I will always love her and take care of her and you'll never have to worry."
- I love that when I open my eyes, your first words are, "Good morning to you, Sugar Pie."
- I love that you're not afraid of your inner-girliness: foot cream, fruity beer, cashmere.
- I love watching you ice skate, work a chain saw and sleep.
- I love that you sing, off key -- in the shower, on the road, while sitting on the pot.
- I love that you've never been ironic.