Sometimes everything feels chaotic and fast, like a whirlwind we can’t stop. Time is flying by and I forget to really see you.
When I stop and I notice, I see the etching of life, the processes that have made you older, stronger and wiser. You are the same as when we married, but you’re different too. We’ve grown up together.
I am proud of who you are and who you’ve become.
I’ve seen you at your best and I’ve seen you at your worst. You have seen me at my best and you’ve seen me at my worst too. We’ve been undone together and we’ve loved each other still—that’s what makes us belong.
Sometimes I expect everything from you. Things that don’t belong to you, like making me feel happy, or skinny, or perfect. I’m sorry—it’s not your job. I know it’s not. Sometimes when I’m angry at me, I get angry at you instead.
I take things out on you. When I’m struggling or anxious or depressed, I roll my eyes and I glare at you when you say the wrong thing. There wasn’t a right thing you could have said anyway. My struggle is with me, not with you.
I’m sorry that in the day to day mess of life, I give you my worst instead of my best…more often than I’d like to admit.
Today, and every day, I want you to know…
You are my favorite.
You are my favorite person to go through hard things with.
If I’m going to wake up with swollen eyes from sobbing all night, I want it to be with you. If I’m going to struggle, if I’m going to fail, if I’m going to fall apart, there’s no one I’d rather do that with than you.
You are my favorite person to adventure with.
There’s no one I’d rather climb mountains with, or get on an airplane with, or have kids with. There’s no one I’d rather step into the scary unknown with than you. You are my person, you are my home, and I’d go anywhere with you. (Except space or bungee jumping, because nope.)
You are my favorite person to celebrate with.
When one of us wins at something there’s no one I’d rather sit with at the kitchen table with a bottle of champagne than you. Even though there’s a sink full of dishes and laundry on the living room floor, there’s no celebration I’d rather be at than ours.
You are my favorite person to laugh with.
I love to watch funny movies with you and make fun of bad acting and shallow plot lines. You’re my favorite person to be teased by, and there’s no one I’d rather crack up than you.
You are my favorite person to cry with.
When I cry with you I don’t have to be pretty or clean. I can let it all hang out with snot and mascara running down my face, and it’s okay. I don’t try to wipe it away or be “together.” You know me and I’m not afraid to let you see my ugly.
You are my favorite person to parent with.
We are doing our best to raise them with whole hearts and passionate souls and we barely ever know what we’re doing. We’re in way over our heads and we think we fail more than we succeed, but we keep loving them and leading them anyway.
You are doing the very best job—I’m so proud of the dad that you are.
You are my favorite father for our kids and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt you are theirs too.
You are my best surprise.
I knew I was marrying someone that I loved and admired, but I didn’t know the man you’d become. I didn’t know the father you’d be or the partner you’d be in good times and bad. I didn’t know how you’d hold our babies on their first day of life. I didn’t know how you’d be during financial struggles and I didn’t know how you’d hold my hand even though we just had a fight. I didn’t know how you’d brush our daughter’s hair or how you’d teach them all to work hard for their dreams.
I didn’t know, but I’m so grateful now that I chose you.
I know that you question if you’ve done well, and let me tell you something: you’ve done so, so, well. You’ve done better than I could have expected.
You have been my best and my favorite surprise.