That man who has loved me through it all.
The one who pushes me out of bed at 5:15 in the morning.
The man that wakes up every morning and works out with me.
The husband that will take old pictures of me off the walls because I couldn't bring myself to do it.
The man that just holds me when life is tough.
The one that calls me out when I'm wrong.
That man loved me when I didn't love myself. He stood beside me when I couldn't seem to care about anything.
The man I married pushes me to bigger and better things because he actually believes in me.
He makes me believe in myself.
He knows exactly when to step back. He knows when to kick my butt into gear. He puts up with every single one of my obsessive compulsive quirks. He knows the dreams in my heart that no one else has even seen. He knows what drives me.
He can look at me and know exactly what kind of mood I'm in. No games, just love. He's the one I've learned to run to....when I'm at my best and when I am at my absolute worst.
That man I fell in love with over and over again. My silly little girl heart fell in love with the beautiful blonde haired boy two houses down so many years ago. Before I knew what kind of man he was going to be...
I fell head over heels for the bad boy my dad hired to work for the marina years later. The only guy who got to drive my brand new little red sportscar. The guy that cleaned boats beside me at a boat show. The friendship he gave to me that eventually lead to so much more.
I loved him as a child when he never even noticed me, I loved him as a guy you'd never bring home to your parents, and I loved him as the man I always knew he'd become.
Oh, how I love that man. All of this time I thought I was helping him grow up, but in reality he was helping me.