I love you.

Thank you for loving me. Maybe someday, one day, the i-love-yous will be less and it'll lose its intensity. But its meaning will remain. It's you I love. Not the version of who you are now, but simply you, what inexplicably makes you who you are and different from everyone I've ever met and been with.

Sometimes it scares me because it feels so much like the ever after already. And when I see the stretch of time that we'll be together, I wonder if I'll ever be enough for you. I'm hardly the most exciting and interesting person. I've been known to cure insomnia and make mute men talk.  But I guess I'll just be the silent part of you.  The one you can run to when the world and your life becomes too noisy and unbearable.  I'll be that shoulder you lean on when you're too drunk to walk straight, drive you home when you can't find the car key in your pocket.  Hold your hand and hug you when you're too frazzled and overwhelmed by work and the minutiae of daily life .  I'll be that post-it when you've forgotten schedules and appointments like taking your bath.

I won't be able to tell you what to do when you're between choices and decisions, but I can guide you through your options and help you weigh the pros and cons.  At the least, I will listen.  What you're saying and what you're not saying.  What you say you don't want and what you really need.

I cannot promise you a very exciting life. But I can give you a love that's as wild and open to whatever lies ahead. It will have its ups and downs, a whole lot of waiting for things to happen, and maybe some very rough roads. I'll hold on to us when the ground starts shaking.  I'll remember our very first moments and I'll go back to this when I love you more than the air I breathe.