(To stay married to me; that is)
In no way, shape or form do I deserve to have Allen as a husband. It's a fact. I'm a whole hot mess and that man is still hangin' around. Later this month we'll celebrate our 6th anniversary; so I think I should devote a blog post or two entirely to the fabulousness of my man.
It's no secret that I'm a hard pill to swallow. Hell, I'm a hard pill to be in the same zip code with most days. I am high-strung, much too passionate about miniscule things, an over-reactor extraordinaire, and my OCD tendencies would drive a sane person mad. Yet Allen takes it all in stride. He handles my stress better than anyone and never seems to mind. He digs my quirks; he makes fun of them, yes - but he digs them nonetheless. I believe my family counts Allen as a saint. Had he not taken me off of their hands they would be the ones left to deal with all this insanity.
Allen is also one of the most selfLESS people I've ever encountered. He thinks of others before himself at every turn; he gives every ounce of his being to better the lives of his family and friends and he succeeds with flying colors.
I know its sickeningly cliche, but I love the way he loves me. I love that he knows me better than I know myself. I love that he takes so much time and puts so much effort in to making me happy. I love that he holds me when I need his stength, pushes me when I'm holding back, and lets me dream freely with no judgement. I love HIM. His infectious laugh, his ridiculous jokes, his giving soul and huge heart, and let us not discount that deliciously cute deriere.
Oh, and the man can grill a MEAN steak. This is absolutely key when married to a big girl..