Gag me with a spoon.

That'll probably be your reaction to this post.  I apologize in advance, and I hope you didn't pay a lot for your last meal.  


On with the show...

"Together, they're an exceptional couple."

That's what Kimmie said about me and Jimi today, trying to explain the particular nuances of our (mine and Jimi's) relationship.  It gives me butterflies when I hear people say things like that about us.  I think our relationship is exceptional; it's cool that our friends can see it too.  Cause, you know, love is blind and all.

Kim says it's not that Jimi's exceptional, necessarily, but that together we make a great team.  I really believe that Jimi's exceptional and that our success is in thanks largely to the fact that he's the most patient, tolerant, understanding, and kindest man in the whole wide world.

The whole conversation got started because the married ladies in the office were having a "my husband sucks" session.  It happens, you know?  C peeked her head into my office and said, "I know why you're being so quiet in there, because you have a Jimi."

"It's funny you say that, actually," I replied.  I was glad she'd brought it up. "We had this very conversation last week.  I asked Jimi, 'Do you complain about me at work?'  He said 'No, why would I do that?'  So I said 'the women at work complain about what jackasses their husbands are sometimes, and I can't say anything, because in our house, I'm the one who does the jackass things their husbands are doing.  I can commiserate with the husbands.'"

"Exactly," says C.  "Jimi's just a hell of a guy and an exception to the rule."

"I agree," I agreed.  I really do agree.  It's the truth.

And that's when Kim gave me butterflies.

I said something not too long ago about how relationships have highs and lows; we climb pretty steady in this house.  If we were a line graph of business profits, our investors would be happy to see us.  If we were blog stats, you'd want to be the author of that blog.

Four and a half years after that night I made out with him for three and a half hours in the front seats of his truck in that nightclub parking garage - (how's that for a "how I met your mom" story?!) - four and a half years into this thing, this love, this life - oh, I'm just so happy.  I'm so thankful.  I feel so blessed, smiled upon, touched.  Once upon a time, I was a woman who cried her drunk ass to sleep every night thinking "Is this all there is?  Is this all I'll ever have?  Please say this isn't all of it."  Now I'm a woman who gets two birthday cakes and makes the same wish - "Please let this be my life forever.  Please let me have this much happiness every day for the rest of my life."  And it's not just Jimi that makes me feel that way, of course - I've got happiness in spades in just about every way.  But do you remember that movie Pleasantville?  The one that was black and white but then slowly things start to turn to color?  Jimi brought my world from black and white and gray to vibrant and full of life and beautiful.

And I don't know why I've got this urge to gush so much about that man o' mine.  I feel like I love him more every single day and that to not talk about it is doing him and myself a disservice.  It's like that pregnancy/TTC thing - you know how once it's in your head, it's all you can think about night and day, day and night?  That's how I've felt for the last few weeks about how much I love him.  I can't get enough.

And I promise I won't do this regularly.  But every now and then, you've got to expect it.  :)

Oh, and enter my giveaway.  Because, you know, well, just because.