In all of the chaos of the last couple of weeks, from getting married (!!!) to our beach vacation, to our car accident and subsequent overnight hospitalization, he has been my rock. When I have wanted to cry, he has picked me up and calmed me down, and when I have needed to cry, he has assured me that that's okay too. He has been the calm through the storm. I'm not sure how he maintains his cool, but he manages to even when I feel like I am breaking apart.
I admire that he is a hard worker, providing for our family without fail. He is successful in his job, and in all that he pursues. How lucky am I that he is mine? He is an involved and loving father to three kids already. I tear up when I think about him holding our daughter for the first time. Our daughter. Mine and his. I have butterflies thinking about the fact that we have created life together that we will love and teach and watch grow together.
When we are laying in bed together, sometimes when he's already asleep and sometimes when he's just starting to fade out, I look at him and can't help but think, "how did I get so lucky?". I don't know what I have done in life to be granted this type of happiness, but I am forever grateful. I am not a religious person, and have only delved into religion a few times in my life, always for brief periods. It has never stuck, but my husband? He makes me feel like there must be more. I have had this growing feeling inside of me that we were placed in each other's lives by something much greater than ourselves. I don't know what that means or where the feeling comes from, but I know that it must be true. He makes me want to explore that feeling more.
Sometimes, I wish that he could see himself through my eyes. I think that, only then, he could realize how truly special he is. I am completely overwhelmed by how he makes me feel. I have met my match.