155
As you sleep in our bed with our cats, I thought I would take this time to write that I love you. Thank you for being strong with me over the past couple of weeks. It strengthens me to know you'll be there. My biggest fear is that you'll leave, you'll run, you'll abandon. I love you, and I am humble and grateful you were so compassionate.
Next month, our 13th anniversary. I know you want a new couch, but there has to be something more romantic I can scheme up.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Thursday, April 19, 2012
154
I love you. And I know you don't like it when I say things like this, sounding negative and such, but I wish I was a better person. I wish you never saw my stress or indecision, or worry or anger. I wish I never gave you a bad moment. I love you, and I want every moment to be happy and magical.
I love you.
I love you. And I know you don't like it when I say things like this, sounding negative and such, but I wish I was a better person. I wish you never saw my stress or indecision, or worry or anger. I wish I never gave you a bad moment. I love you, and I want every moment to be happy and magical.
I love you.
Monday, March 19, 2012
153
To my love.
I miss you. Being down in California for week, away from you and our happy home, ebbs me in a way I try not to mention when we talk. I get glimpses of what my solitary life would be like without you. I'm encased in a studio apartment in my hotel while I'm down here for two weeks working. It feels more like a stuffy box wrapped in a simulation of comfortable living. Everything is me, and there's a void where you used to be. I never want that eroded or filled up. I want to be with you. Being alone is not the same as being lonely, but when I eventually think of you, there's a blankness, a psychic hole that sinks me into longing.
I miss you. This has been the longest time we've been appear since you traveled to Germany years ago. I felt adrift during that time then, and I recall that floating, pale sensation now, wrapping itself around my chest and throat.
Saturday. Home Saturday. Home with you and the cats. Soon, in the distance, it's coming.
I love you.
To my love.
I miss you. Being down in California for week, away from you and our happy home, ebbs me in a way I try not to mention when we talk. I get glimpses of what my solitary life would be like without you. I'm encased in a studio apartment in my hotel while I'm down here for two weeks working. It feels more like a stuffy box wrapped in a simulation of comfortable living. Everything is me, and there's a void where you used to be. I never want that eroded or filled up. I want to be with you. Being alone is not the same as being lonely, but when I eventually think of you, there's a blankness, a psychic hole that sinks me into longing.
I miss you. This has been the longest time we've been appear since you traveled to Germany years ago. I felt adrift during that time then, and I recall that floating, pale sensation now, wrapping itself around my chest and throat.
Saturday. Home Saturday. Home with you and the cats. Soon, in the distance, it's coming.
I love you.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Thursday, January 19, 2012
151
Happy 151 months to my lovely wife, as we are currently housebound due to the constant snowfall in the Seattle area. I'm glad we are safe and warm together, and we both can laugh about cabin fever. I love you, my dear. In the next couple of weeks, we will celebrate an early Valentine's Day with applause and horses...and hopefully without snow.
Happy 151 months to my lovely wife, as we are currently housebound due to the constant snowfall in the Seattle area. I'm glad we are safe and warm together, and we both can laugh about cabin fever. I love you, my dear. In the next couple of weeks, we will celebrate an early Valentine's Day with applause and horses...and hopefully without snow.
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