Me: Stephen, what are some of my favorite things?
Him: Food. Like free food.
Me: I already got that. What else?
Him: Working out.
Obviously he is trying to tell me something here.....
Me: No, Stephen. Like, my favorite, favorite things. In the whole world.
Him: Oh! Sex.
Him: That is your favorite thing, you just don't want to admit it.
Me: I'm posting this on Instagram.....I'm not saying that. What else?
Him: Vacations. Spending money. The beach. Going fancy places.
Me: I do love the beach! Okay what else?
Him: Do you want to donate your body to science one day?
Me: Like when I die? No.
Him: What, why not? Then anatomy students could actually have a pretty cadaver to look at.
|Excuse my face....|
Me: Can we get back to my favorite things? I need one more.
He picks up a guitar.
Him: What song do you want me to learn?
And there it is: my other favorite thing. My most favorite thing.
It's the man I want to pour all my love into, one packed lunch or rock-climbing date or back massage at a time.
I love him for every time he's gotten out of bed to bring me a cold water bottle from the fridge, for every fried egg he's made for me, for each time he's called me "cutie" or complimented my butt or painted the nails on my right hand. For every baby he's ever played with, every cheesy picture he's ever taken with me, every homeless person he's ever given food to, every time he's skipped class to cuddle with me when I'm off-track.
It makes for a really mushy blog post, this love. I just never imagined it would be this wonderful!