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.