Day Nine: Whatta Man.

Monday was my husband's thirty-fourth birthday.  When we first met, he was twenty two.  Damn, that's a long time.  If you've read A Borrowed Blog, you have a pretty good insight of our story.  If you haven't read it, I definitely would encourage you to - it's a good read if you're into love stories and happily-ever-afters.  I'll wait if you want to go check it out. 

--waiting--

--still waiting--

Hey, you wanna hear a joke?  Nevermind, that will just distract you - and me, I'm sure.

--waiting just a little bit longer--

You're back!  Great!  So, now that you have a background on me and M (or as you just read RayH7), I can proceed.  Our story gives you ups and downs and facts, but it didn't really talk about the people behind us.  You've gotten to know me through my writings, and through "Dino Who?"  And I tell you stories about M and our daughter G, but in honor of his birthday, I want to take the time to share with you the man behind the letter M.

When I first met M, I had just turned eighteen.  We met - online - the following month for the first time.  I had just broken up with this other dude, and was still pretty comfortably sitting on the I-hate-men bandwagon...at least as comfortable as an eighteen year old senior in high school can be.  The last thing I wanted was another bad experience with a member of the male species.

Me and M hit it off right from the start.  He was different than other guys.  We shared the same faith foundation, and for me, that was the number one must have in a man.  He also took the time to really get to know me - my likes, my dislikes...what makes me laugh, what makes me cry.  He was a friend...a real friend.  Building on top of our shared faith, came the honesty of friendship from which grew love.  Our official journey together began in 2001, and we've been together ever since.  I've watched him grow from a twenty two year old college kid into a very well-rounded, respectable man. 

Together, over the past almost twelve years, we've experienced highs and lows just like any other couple.  Through it all, we've endured.  M has been my rock.  He's been my best friend when I had nobody else.  He's seen me at my absolute worst - emotionally, physically, psychologically - and loved me anyway.  He's loved me through the many screw ups I've made in our relationship, or in my own personal endeavors.  He is the most hard working man I know.  Honest.  Trustworthy.  Loyal.  He's a wonderful father to our little girl.  He takes care of us.  He's respectable and respectful.  He cooks.  He cleans.  He does laundry.  He's my comic relief...my therapist...my best friend.  He stays positive during the hard times.  He knows when to hold his tongue.  He stands up for what he believes in even when it's not popular.  He owns up to his faults, and he's man enough to apologize when he's in the wrong.  He provides for his family.  He's genuine.  A lover.  A fighter.  A football fanatic.  He's smart.  He's strong.  He's gentle.  He's a good man.  He's mine. 

I love you, Mr. M.