And now for something completely different.

Well, not really.  It’s completely related to all that shite I wrote last month, but I’m not ready to tackle it yet.  Or better yet, I don’t know if I’m allowed to discuss it publicly yet.

Yes, that was complete, unadulterated snark.  Deal with it.  😆

This post is a devotion to all the things I love about my Mocha Man, because I never, ever want to take him for granted.

I love his laugh, and the way his eyes twinkle.

I love his skin: the color, the softness, the warmth.

I love his twisted sense of humor.

I love his sense of adventure.

I love that he’ll eat ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING.  Especially absolutely anything that I cook.

I love that he cherishes the value of a good crap.

I love that he bought an orange couch.

I love that he adores red wine, the spicy, tannic, dry as sand kind.

I love that he trusts me completely.

I love that he loves my cats.

I love the way he lights up when I enter a room.

I love way he GETS me.

I love the way he smells.

I love the fullness of his lips.

I love his Sunday afternoon stubble.

I love the way he sees beauty in absolutely anything at all.

I love that he can express his love for me so openly.

I love his fearlessness.

I love his sense of integrity, and his insistence upon truth.

I love his sense of style.

I love his strength.

I love that he finds me beautiful no matter how fucked up my hair is when I wake up.

I love his goodness, and his respectfulness.

I love him, everything about him.

I am a very lucky woman.

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