We keep choosing each other. Tuesday. February. After a hard month. Before a long week. That choosing is the whole thing.
New Wishes
A handful of wishes pulled from the cabinet this morning. Pick one up — copy, save it to your pinboard, or send it on.
I would walk to wherever you were. I want you to know that today, and every Tuesday.
Happy Valentine's to the woman who knows where everything is, including me.
You make our kitchen feel like a country. I have happily been a citizen for years.
The day we got married was loud and beautiful. Most days since have been quiet and beautiful. Both. Together. I'd take both.
I love you in the morning. I love you tired. I love you laughing. I love you not laughing because the news is bad. I love you in all weather. Always have.
What are we writing today?
Cabinets sorted by occasion. Open one — pages are arranged by warmth, not algorithm.
- Anniversary
- Baby
- Belated
- Best
- Birthday
- Boy
- Boyfriend
- Christian
- Christmas
- Congratulation
- Diwali
- Easter
- Eid Mubarak
- Engagement
- Farewell
- Fathers Day
- Friendship
- Funny
- Get Well
- Girl
- Girlfriend
- Good Morning
- Good Night
- Graduation
- Hanukkah
- Heart Touching
- Holiday
- Invitation
- Job
- Love
- Miss You
- Mothers Day
- New Year
- Recovery
- Retirement
- Romantic
- Thank You
- Thanksgiving
- Wedding
- Well
- Women's Day
- Sympathy
- Valentine's Day
- Halloween
- Veterans Day
Today I want to thank you for the millions of small kindnesses I have failed to thank you for. I see them. I see you. I love you.
We're not the couple in the movie. We're the couple who watched it together and argued about the ending. Better story. Better lives.
You've forgiven things I haven't forgiven myself for. I notice. Thank you. Happy Valentine's.
Marriage is the slow practice of becoming worthy of someone who chose you when neither of you knew yet. You're worth every practice round. I love you.
The house is louder than it was. The years are quicker. The love is bigger. We did good. We are doing good.
There's no anniversary as quiet as a Tuesday in February with you. I will take it. Forever. Happy Valentine's.
I have been your husband long enough to know there is no one I'd rather be one for. Still you. Always you.
To my wife — for the soft good morning, the rough good night, and every honest minute between. I love you. I'm grateful. I'm yours.
You're the one I want to tell about my day. That has not changed and won't.
Thirteen Valentine's together and you still leave little notes in my coat pocket. I will never get over you.
You make our life feel possible. Thank you. I love you. Happy Valentine's.
The version of myself I get to be in this marriage is the one I like best. That's you. That's us.
I love the way you laugh at our kids' jokes like they invented humor. I love the way you fold the towels wrong. I love everything.
You hold the family together with quiet hands. I see it. I love you for it.
We've outlasted apartments, jobs, two cities, a pandemic, and that terrible blue couch. I'd outlast more, with you.
Some days I marvel at how lucky I got. Today is one of them. Today I'm marveling out loud.
You're the man I want our kids to remember. Steady, kind, present. You're already that. Happy Valentine's.
The grand gesture I want is breakfast at the kitchen table with you tomorrow morning. The day after. Forever.
Marrying you was the smartest decision I've made, and I have made a few. Happy Valentine's, my best yes.