I love that he is 100% comfortable in his own skin.
He exudes confidence and with-it-ness and makes me feel at ease. He feels like home.
He is exactly who he says he is - and doesn't apologize for it.
I am amazed that he compromises his "holiday hesitations" to celebrate with me and my family - just because he knows how important it is to me.
I love that "you can take a boy out of the streets but you can't take the street out of the boy." What once would embarrass me now reminds me that sometimes I need to just get over myself.
I love that even though he is a germophobe, he still sits next to me when I have a runny nose.I love that he reads the Love Dare devotional with me every night.
I love that after I threw a fit about the fact that he wouldn't dance with me at the wedding, he ignored my pouting, asked me to dance and continued to wear a hole in the dancefloor. (to my credit, I quit pouting and said yes.)
He knows the drycleaner. And the post office lady. And the mailman helped him plant the vegetable garden. He doesn't treat them like "the help," he makes an effort to know them and to talk to them. And of course he is on a first name basis with every bartender in a 5 mile radius. (In fact, one of our favorites had to *ahem* spend a few days "away" due to some legal trouble... he wrote Larry a note stating that having him as a friend since he has been in Austin has contributed to the best 10 months OF HIS LIFE.)
I love feeling confident that no matter what I do or what I say, he is going to support me. And even if he WAS the type of knucklehead that went out for "guys nights," I wouldn't worry about his faithfulness.
I love knowing that we make each other better people by being together.
I've kissed my share of frogs.
And I never, ever imagined that I would someday find my prince. But I did. Nothing says it better than Phil 1:3 - "I thank my God whenever I think of you."
Happy (early) St. Valentine's Day to the Magical White Guy. You sure did work a spell over on me.