Mark asks me all of the time, "Why do you love me?"
I used to struggle to come up with a really good answer. I would say all of the old lines... you know... how he makes me smile, he loves me, he is funny, smart, cool, you know, babe... right?
As the years have multiplied... and along with the years have come the gray hair (hidden under the lovely boxed color) and some wrinkles have shown their ugly little faces... I have come to understand that I love him... just as he is.
I don't need him to be in the "perfect" mood.
I don't need him to shower me with flowers, gifts, etc.
I don't need him to fix the fence, car, banister, whatever...
I just need him to be himself.
I love you, Mark, because you are the man God chose just for me.
You are my perfect fit.
I love you because you are... you.