From the Pit to the Palace.

Another year, another month, another fresh start.  The beginning of the year is a time for resolutions and reflection on the prior twelve months.  It's funny to me how so many people vow to not make resolutions because they don't "believe in them" or they fear breaking them.  However, these same people set new goals for the year ahead and hold to the hope of meeting those goals.  But isn't that the same thing as a resolution?  I dunno.  Maybe it's different to some people.  Either way, I do plan on talking about resolutions for this year, but not in this post.  Today, I'm reflecting on 2011.  Some of you know the saga that unfolded during the first half of this past year, but most of you don't.  Sparing you all of the details, I'll recap the year below.

Divorce.  It's an ever-growing reality in our society.  No one goes into marriage thinking it's not going to work.  Maybe some do, but I think it's safe to estimate that when most people say "I do" they're intentions are forever.  If you know us personally, or have read the story of me and Mr. M, you can imagine that it was quite the shock to everybody when we filed for divorce earlier this year.  Things all started in the summer of 2010.  There was drama.  We sought out family and close friend advice, prayed, and even did marriage counseling.  We made amends in November of 2010 and things got better for awhile.  By February of this past year, things had gone to the toilet once again, and we had both had enough. 

Looking back, I guess our decision to divorce was very much in haste.  We filed in late May.  I dropped the paper work off at the courthouse after work one afternoon.  It was a Thursday.  Fear.  Excitement.  Anxiety.  Pressure.  Relief.  Confusion.  I cried all the way home.  What were we doing?  Was this really the only way?  Could we work this out?  

That following weekend was Memorial Day weekend - me and G headed to my parents' place to get away from it all for a couple of days.  I drove up to the church where I grew up and where my parents still attend, and spent three hours there ... alone.  It was me, the piano, and God.  I played the hell out of those keys.  I cried.  I prayed.  I was numb.  There was a stirring within.  By the time I left, it was raining, and I felt a sense of  relief.  It was like I had spent three hours in a detox session for my soul. 

Mr. M and I were still on speaking terms and had talked quite a bit via text that weekend.  I missed him already, but he didn't know that.  On Tuesday, May 31, everything changed.  I dropped G off at the nanny's that morning, and as soon as I climbed back in the car to head to work, I began to cry.  I was completely broken.  I prayed.  I prayed the most earnest, heart-felt prayer I had prayed in months.  I sat there in my car, blubbering, and I said, "Alright, Lord...I need a clear as day sign that we are supposed to be together forever.  I mean no questions asked...I have to know, and I have to know by the end of the day...."  There were three specific things I prayed to witness before the day was over.  Like clock work, God delivered.  I was stunned, shocked, relieved and terrified to even mention it to Mr. M. 

I prayed for the right words to talk to him.  I texted him and said, I'd been thinking and praying, and needed to talk to him.  That night, I wrote him a letter.  I gave it to him before he went to bed, and then I waited.  It was the longest night of my life. The next morning, I thought for sure he'd have something to say to me, but I got nothing but silence.  Had too much damage already been done?  Was it really over?  What had I done?  What had WE done?  Finally, that afternoon, my office phone rang.  It was him.  I picked it up...

"Hello."  I said. 

"Hey Baby!  Can you hear me okay?"  He hadn't called me baby in weeks. 

"Hi, yeah.  What's up?"

"I just wanted to let you know that everything is going to be okay - we're gonna be okay." 

Click.  He hung up immediately after that, and explained later that he had called just to tell me we'd be fine, and didn't want to draw it out over the phone.

I get choked up just writing those words, because I can't express what a relief it was to hear.  I was ecstatic, comforted, at ease, overjoyed.  I was giddy.  A friend drove me to the courthouse the next day on our lunch break so that I could retract our divorce paperwork.  When I gave the clerk my notarized letter to permanently cease all future action around this case, she looked at me funny.  She said, "Are you sure you don't want to temporarily hold it to avoid paying the court fees again later?"  I smiled, "I'm sure." 

June 1, 2011 was the beginning of a new chapter for me and Mr. M.  We've still had our ups and downs, but we're making it.  I never dreamed that our marriage would ever be what it is now.  We have passion.  We have friendship.  We have love.  We're not perfect.  We argue over petty things.  We cry.  We get on each other's nerves sometimes.  But we have one another to lean on no matter what.  And at the end of the day, there is no one else I'd rather fall asleep next too.  He is my one and only - together forever.   

When I look back at all we endured this year - near divorce, heart break, unemployment, a miscarriage - it was a rough year.  There were lots of trials and hardships.  But I know we'd never be where we are today had we not been through the struggles and emotional hell that took place in these past twelve months.  We're still working on us every day.  Marriage is a lot of work, but it's so worth it.  For every tear, there has been a laugh.  And for every argument, an "I love you".  We're getting to where we need to be, and it's been worth the fight. 

Right after Mr. M and I reconciled, a dear friend of mine said something to me that I will never, ever forget.  She started the conversation by telling me that she knew it wasn't over with us when we filed, and that she had been praying daily for us.  Then she told me this, "Adrianne, sometimes God allows us to go down to the bottom of the pit before He'll bring us up to the palace."  Truth. 

We've seen our marriage pit, and every day is a step closer to the palace.  Here's to a brighter 2012!

Happy New Year!

Songs of the Season: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

It's the second day in Songs of the Season.  Yesterday we kicked it off with I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas - something lighthearted to take the edge off of the draining work week and the turkey coma that everyone is finally waking up from.  Today's song of the season is one of my all time favorites.  It's a little on the solemn side, but I love it for it's simplicity.  The melody, the words...it just flows. 

When Mr. M and I were dating, we used to talk a lot about music.  Mainly because we were in a long distance relationship, and knowing which songs each other loved, helped us feel more connected when we'd hear those melodies on the radio.  Sounds silly, I know, and I guess in a way it really is.  But it was our thing, and I always felt a little bit closer to him during those brief moments of air play that were made up of his song. 

Christmases were always a little more special.  While others were wishing for sugar plum fairies and snow-covered lawns, I was always dreaming of the day I'd be able to spend Christmas with him.  It eventually happened...about four years into our relationship, and we've had Christmas together every year since.   

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas was always my song.  It was one of those that he would hear, and his mind would go to me, and vice versa.  To this day, that song still takes me back to our dating days.  The only difference between then and now?  My Christmas wish has finally come true, and now I really can have a merry little Christmas. 

Happy Christmas!

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. 

Day Six: 30 Years.

Today, I celebrate a milestone - my thirtieth birthday.  I can't believe it.  For me, it feels like your teens and twenties last forever.  Thirty seems so far away....until it's not.  My twenties were good.  I left home at twenty two, and moved three hours south, with my sister, for school.  Living on your own, you learn a lot about life...a lot about yourself.  I learned some things the hard way, and some things I learned from watching others.  I've had a lot of great experiences, and still have a lot of things I want to do - my bucket list grows every year.  In honor of my birthday, I've decided to make a list of thirty things - things I've either done, experienced, or describe the woman I've grown to be; and things I'd like to experience before this journey ends.  Some are silly, some are serious, some are just for laughs.  But no matter how you want to take it, here's to another thirty years! 

Cheers. 

1. I've fallen in love.
2. I traveled to the other side of the world - Japan to be exact.
3. I married my best friend.
4. I've given birth.  
5. I want to go to Greece.
6. I've gone skinny dipping.
7. I want to buy a house. 
8. I've been in a car accident that I should not have walked away from.
9. I grew up immersed in the world of wheelchair sports...particularly wheelchair basketball.
10. I want to have more children - soon.
11. I've never dated a white guy.
12. I didn't get my driver's license until I was eighteen. 
13. I want to visit all fifty states. 
14. I'm afraid of the dark - I really am.
15. I met my husband online.
16. I prefer rainy days over sunshine most of the time.
17. I've never been drunk. 
18. I'm a pianist.
19. I collect magnets.
20. I've learned that your Mom really is always right.
21. My husband was my first kiss.
22. I'm over six feet tall.
23. I've never carved a pumpkin.
24. I've lived in Florida my whole life. 
25. I want to go to the Olympics before I die. 
26. I went snorkeling in the East China Sea.
27. When I was nineteen, I was diagnosed with a bleeding disorder.
28. I'm a natural blonde.
29. My daughter has two middle names.
30. I've learned that true love does wait.

Day Five: A Day At The Park.

This past Sunday, my husband, daughter and I decided to take advantage of the beautiful fall weather and headed to the park.  Seeing little G laughing and completely enjoying herself got me thinking about blog topics.  I thought about writing on the innocence of children, or child like faith, but as I flipped through the pictures I saw that they told the story better than I ever could.  Enjoy!

 

 

Day Two: Technology.

Modern day technology is amazing.  It's fascinating to think of how far we've come in just the last twenty years or so -- computers, cell phones, social networking, GPS, blogs, forums of particular interest, Skype, text messaging, iPods -- and that's just to name a few.  Each of those items plays a role in most people's daily life.  I, for one, use a computer, a cell phone, social networking, blogging, Skype, and text messaging on a daily basis.  There are also a hand full of forums that I used to visit on the regular, but that was pre-motherhood when I had occasional free time.

Cell phones and text messaging go hand in hand.  I am probably the only woman on the planet who doesn't like to talk on the phone.  I hate it - maybe even despise it.  Text messaging was created for people like me.  I have a disclaimer that I tell people when I give them my number, "I hate talking on the phone and I suck at returning phone calls, but I'm a great texter."  Nine times out of ten, the receiving person feels the same way.  Text messaging is my main line of communication with family, friends, and sometimes even co-workers.  On occasion, I'll check my phone bill to see how many texts were sent and received from my line...my record so far was close to 4,000 text messages in one billing cycle.  I think I've got a problem.

Skype is one of my favorite modern day advances.  As you may have read in Raindrops, my sister lives in Tennessee.  Earlier this year, she introduced me to the world of Skype, and it was a match made in technology Heaven.  While it's rare that we use the video chat feature - okay, I admit, we've never used it - we still chat on Skype instant messenger almost every day.  It's been a great aid in allowing us to stay in touch across state lines. 

And finally, let's talk computers.  Almost everyone has one at home, and probably one at work too.  I use a Mac at work, which I love; and at home, we have a PC laptop.  We actually just bought it - and when I say "just bought it", I'm talking we bought it last night - an early birthday gift from my husband.  This is actually my first blog composed and posted from this machine.  Computers allow me to write this blog.  Computers allow you to read this blog.  Computers give me job security.  They are responsible for my husband and I meeting.  I'm sure there are a hundred ways you and I could count as to how computers make our lives function more smoothly.  I'm not sure about you, but I can't imagine a world without them.        

Whether it keeps you employed, aids in your social life, or allows you to be in contact with family across the country, technology has become a staple in today's society.  And as cheesy as it sounds, I really am thankful for technology. 

A Borrowed Blog.

It's Wednesday, and I'm feeling way uninspired.  I don't know if it's the lack of sleep I've been dealing with over the past few days, or just a mid-week slump perhaps.  Either way, I am running on very little brain power - my batteries are about done.  Creative blogging was out of the question today, but I knew I needed to say something...even if it's just a blurp.  Don't worry - I'll leave you with something more interesting than the four sentences prior to this one.

Me and M have quite a story about how we met, how things came together, and how we got to where we are now.  A couple of years ago, when I was feeling very inspired, I thought it would be a good idea to put us down on paper.  That's what you'll find below.  It's lengthy, and yes, I borrowed it from myself, but it's definitely worth the read.  We've had a lot of trials since this was first published, but we've made it.  I'll write more on those rough times at a later date.  Until then, happy reading!


GOD BLESS THE SALT SHAKER.

I grew up in a very rural town about fifty miles northwest of Gainesville. It's very heavily populated with rednecks and redneck ideas. Thankfully, I was raised in a loving, Christian home where my parents taught us (myself, sister and brother) to love and accept people of all colors, races, cultures, and ethnic backgrounds. Neither of my parents grew up in the area, (my Dad is from Springfield, Ill, and my Mom from Richmond, VA), so I'm proud to say they are cultured and well-rounded people. Those qualities carried over into their parenting skills - praise the Lord - and they now have three emotionally healthy and diverse adult children. Growing up in Dixie County, there wasn't much diversity when it came to the color of people's skin. There is a medium-sized black population, but the area is primarily white. Racial tension runs high, even to this day.

As a little girl, I remember being attracted to black boys more than white boys, and as I got older the attraction only grew stronger. As a teenager, I remember "interracial" dating being such a hot topic at my school, and with that being said the student body seemed to be divided by a very definite line - those who were down and those who found it undesirable (that's putting it mildly). Growing up, I remember hearing derogatory remarks like,

"It's just not the way God intended it...look at the birds - cardinals stay with cardinals, blue jays with blue jays ."

"Black people just....smell different, and they have different diseases."

"Don't have sex with black men or you'll get AIDS...they all have it ."

"Why can't you just stay with your own kind?"

"Why would anyone want to do that? Don't you know black people came from a white person and a monkey ?"

"Oh, you're boyfriend is black? Well, I don't really like black people ."

The list goes on. I think my personal favorite went something like this, "Well, those aren't real relationships...those are just black guys raping white women." I was stunned. When I heard that phrase leave my coworker's mouth, I felt the blood rush out of my face. I'm sure I was as white as a ghost. My legs felt like they were cemented to the floor. I couldn't move. Speechless. I mean, what do you really say back to such a spout of ignorance? People say racism is taught...I believe it. While most of the above quotes are memories from my teen and early adult years, even as a child I remember feeling a bit queasy when hearing strangers use the word "nigger". I wasn't raised that way. My parents weren't that way - they taught me better. I remember hearing my grandpa throw around the "N-word" as if it was nothing. It always baffled me how ignorance still festered in his old age. I thought wisdom came with age...boy, did I learn differently as I grew up. As a little white girl, I couldn't understand why people would use that word or anything like it. After all, being black or white or brown or yellow was only an outward thing...no one can help what color they are. "Isn't it what's on the inside that counts anyway?", I would think as a kid. It [that word] always made me feel gross...and as a grown woman, it still makes me cringe. Ignorance...simply put.

When I was 14, I remember praying that God would soon send me something or someone who would encourage and help me in my walk of faith - someone who had my back and could help me grow in my spiritual journey. From that point until high school graduation, I didn't date much, but I talked to lots of boys - black, white and brown. And one night in December of 1999, I ran into "RayH7" in a Christian chat room for college aged kids. It was called "The Salt Shaker". Now, for those of you who remember AOL chat rooms, you might remember how people would introduce themselves when entering a room. It usually went something like this: age/race&sex/location. There he was, Mr RayH7, 22/BM/VA....typing in black Arial font - bold. I remember it like it was yesterday. I said "hi", only to be ignored. Disappointing. About three weeks later in January '00, I revisited the Salt Shaker....and who was there?....none other than Ray, typing in his trusty black Arial font - bold. ;-) He didn't ignore me this time, and after talking for roughly an hour, I mustered up the courage to send him a private message. It was the beginning of a new chapter.

Ray was a strong Christian, came from a good family, and seemed to have all the qualities a girl could ask for. But things soon proved themselves to be more difficult then I had imagined....I was barely 18, and still living under my parents' roof. He was 22, and on the verge of moving out of his parents' home. He was in Virginia, I was in Florida. He was black, I was white. I tried to be as open as possible with my parents about this new found relationship, but there were issues. Although my parents had raised us to love all colors, there had always been that underlying "interracial" issue. I knew my parents would be accepting in the long run, but that initial shock of "Oh my God...he's black!!" had to wear off. An even bigger issue for them was the online thing. Today, with sites like eharmony, match.com, and plenty-of-fish, dating online is pretty much the norm; but, 10yrs ago - not so much. In the months following, Ray and I got to know each other - well...very well. We spent endless hours chatting on AIM, and sent countless emails back and forth. I have floppy disks full of pictures, conversations, and emails. By the summer of 2000, I remember thinking, "Man, the woman this man marries, is going to be so blessed!" I must add to, that although we had been talking for about 9 months, I had yet to see his picture. He had seen mine, but here I was...falling for a man, who's face I'd never seen! But it was too late, by the fall, I was hooked!! I was just praying that God would make this man attractive to me. When I finally received the email, I was scared to open it. I remember staring at it in my inbox...terrified of clicking on it. What if I wasn't attracted to him? I've invested 2 months shy of a year into getting to know this guy...what if?? I clicked. I opened. What a relief. He was cute!! Praise Jesus in Heaven!

At this time, I was still living at home, and there were already 2 strikes against me - online dating (strike 1), and he's black (strike 2). So, I knew I would have to do all in my power to keep things as open and peaceful as possible with my parents. I knew things with Ray were going to get serious eventually, so I had to smooth my path and keep my windows of communication wide open! Respecting their [my parents] rules since I was still living under their roof was my top priority. I must add, though, that my parents now ADORE my husband. They are nothing but supportive of us, and I know people have given them grief over the years as well. At the time, respecting my parents' rules meant I was not allowed to give out our home address to write real letters, and no phone calls. Thank God for P.O. boxes and e-cards that allowed real-live voice messages. In the summer of 2001, Ray and I decided to make things as official as two people who had never met (in person) could. :)

 

After finishing up a year of college in south Florida, Ray headed back to Virgina to enjoy some down time away from school. Almost two years in, and we still hadn't met. Would it ever happen? Then the unimaginable struck - September 11, 2001. As we all remember, 9/11 changed the world as we knew it...indefinitely. It also changed our relationship. Being the man he is, Ray enlisted in the USAF and left for basic training on March 23, 2002. I remember the day he left...it was rainy. I sat in my car in the parking lot of Santa Fe College and cried my eyes out. When would I talk to him again? What was he doing? Would our relationship survive this? I was so proud of him, but at the same time....crushed! I was selfish and scared. We were now even further apart - he was shipped to Texas - and our dreams of meeting in person were pushed back yet again. After spending the past 2+ years talking EVERY day, I knew it would be weeks before I'd hear from him again. I was going through serious withdrawals...just like that - cold turkey. He was my best friend, my therapist, my comic relief...and now I would count the minutes until I received word from him. By this point, I had secured my own personal post office box so that we could write. I received my first (of many) letter from him in April 2002...and I still have every one he's ever written. :) After finishing basic training, he went to tech school for a matter of weeks, which was also in TX. By Summer of 2002, basic and tech school were finished...and he got his first legitimate orders. I held my breath, "Please, Lord...don't send him to Afghanistan...please! I need him." As always, God heard my prayer, and while it was a relief that *Ray wasn't being shipped into harm's way....he was still shipped overseas - Kadena AFB in Okinawa, Japan. Japan?! And it was a two year assignment, at that. Would we ever meet? By this time, I had moved out of the house and into dorm life at my now alma mater - Florida Southern College. Being out of the house...we had our first real telephone conversation in fall 2003...three years after we'd first met. We spent endless hours on the phone. 4:00am phone conversations and 8:00am classes don't mix well. I learned that the hard way.

Ray had scheduled leave time for a couple weeks close to Christmas 2003. He was flying home to Richmond to stay with his parents for the holidays. A good friend of mine had family in Richmond and a grandmother who was very ill at the time. She wanted to have one last visit with her grandmother, and it was past time for me and Ray to meet face-to-face. Road trip!!! Finally, just days short of four years into this thing, we met for the first time!!! Hallelujah!! December 30, 2003 - there we were...me, my friend *Kay, and my sister...sitting in a Micheal's parking lot in Richmond, Virginia waiting for him to arrive. The anticipation was killing me...and then, we saw it - a burgundy BMW coming our way. "Dammit, I'm going to puke!" It was really him - alive and in the flesh. What a mix of emotions and nerves. I don't think I had ever smiled so much before that day. My face was frozen in a permanent grin. It was an incredible 3-4 days there. We had our first hug, our first date, our first kiss. This was real...he was real. I could touch him...hold his hand...see his smile...hear his laugh. Bliss! He rented a car, and drove back to Florida with me. He met my parents that weekend. I showed him Gainesville. And then the time was cut short. His leave was coming to an end. We planned our next rendezvous before he headed back to Richmond. It was almost seven months before I saw him again, but on June 28, 2004, I boarded a plane to Okinawa. I had never flown before. I was 22, alone, terrified of flying, and getting ready to fly half way across the world to see my man. After flight drama, an emotional breakdown, a $7-dollar bagel, terrible turbulence, spending an unplanned night in San Francisco, and sitting next to a guy who was very persistent with his flirty desires....I had made it. I was 10,000 miles away from home, immersed in a culture 110% foreign from mine, but I was with him ...again! Ahh, the things we do for love.

Ray's tour in Japan was finished the following summer - 2004. Where would they send him now? He got his orders. Is this really happening?! Was he really being stationed in Florida? By the fall of 2004, we were living in the same state. He was stationed in Panama City, where he finished his time in the AF. Although we were finally on the same side of the state line, we were still seven hours apart. I was still in school in Lakeland. We took turns driving back and forth on weekends. We saw each other about twice a month over the next year and a half. I got to know I-98 very well over those 18 months. Late night drives on deserted roads lined with pine trees and rocky beaches. It was draining at times, but worth every lonely mile. Finally, in March 2006...it was time for him to separate from the service. His duties were done, and it was time to get this ball moving. We'd talked about marriage numerous times since about 2002. I was ready. He was ready. So, what now? He moved to Lakeland to be with me. He had nothing more than the clothes on his back, his car, and the two cats that we had adopted earlier that year. When he reached Lakeland, he lived in my dorm room for about a week. We intensely searched for an apartment and a job for him. By the end of the week, we had landed both. God is good! We were finally in the same state, in the same town, only minutes from each other. On December 16, 2006, he proposed. We were married on August 11, 2007. After almost 8 years, I was officially Mrs *RayH7. We honeymooned for a week in the Keys. Breath-taking. We left Lakeland for Gainesville in May '08. We had a beautiful baby girl on January 6, 2010, and will celebrate three years of marriage in August.
 
People say true love doesn't exist...I beg to differ. Ray and I have been together for over ten years now. If I've learned anything, it's that love is not a feeling. Love is a commitment, a choice. It's not always frills and lace, or smiles and gushy words....sometimes it's ugly. It's hard. It's scary. It's trying. But it's beautiful. As cliche as it sounds, Ray and I complete each other. We've had hardships - distance, racism, broken family ties. We've endured. He is my first love. My first kiss. My first real heartache. He's it. My soul mate...my better half...my heart - together forever. I love you, honey.

"You my soul, you my heart, You my bliss, oh you my pain, You the world in which I live;
You my heaven, in which I float, O you my grave, into which I eternally cast my grief.

"You are the rest, you are the peace, You are the heaven upon me bestowed.
That you love me makes me worthy of you; your gaze transfigures me;
you raise me lovingly above myself, my good spirit, my better self." ~Robert Schumann

The end.