four.

Four months.

There’s nothing particularly important or wildly exciting about four months, but we’ve been man and wife for that long, and I’m grateful for it.

You’re beginning to see the whole of who I am.

My fear of cockroaches (that you bravely protect me from in our funny bathroom). My ferocious “need” for ice cream on practically any given night.

My double-edged sword desire for more…more for us, more for our people, more for myself…and more for our couch, who is currently devoid of any throw pillows.

You’ve also figured out something that I didn’t know…that playing videos of cute puppies will completely bring me out of any bad mood I might be in.

You’ve stuck to your vows, you’ve taught me the value of a good frozen pizza, and you’ve led me on adventures in our new Georgia state.

You’ve been gracious in running at my turtle pace for a half mile before you take off, and you’ve been nothing but a gentleman when I get cranky because I lost in backgammon…again.

Thank you, my dear for loving me.

I sure do love you.