love is my husband. i love him. i truly do. and it has nothing to do with familiarity due to time. he's the strong silent type - physically, emotionally, and character. that's so sexy to me. he's sexy to me, still after 22 years. and i am to him. he's tender and loving. he loves our daughter in the way a dad should. active and concerned who combs her hair almost better than i can. he loves to laugh and always looks for the bright side. he listens. he believes in womanhood, but has no problem donning an apron and scrubbing the toilets, and i haven't done laundry or changed the sheets in at least 15 years.
i love it when he works in the yard, or on the cars. how he looks at me when he thinks i'm not paying attention. i love his arms. his shoulders. his legs. i love cutting his hair or shaving him and his 3 o'clock shadow. or when he's getting in someones ass for being disrespectful. that base in his voice.... yes.
now don't get me wrong. he's not perfect. our love isn't perfect.
but he loves me without question. all of me. COMPLETELY. i don't have to hide. he kisses my boo-boos. he believes, no, he knows i can do anything. he thinks i'm pretty. he flirts with me. i am his queen.
we've been through it these last several years with my health. i mean things that would rip most marriages apart, but yet we are only stronger, we love and appreciate each other more and more. he is amazing.
again, he is not perfect. however, he's pretty damn close to it for me.