Now that we carpool to work, we're together every moment that we aren't at work. Some people would get tired of being around another person that much. Personally, I think it's awesome. When we first started dating, I wanted to be around you all the time. I wanted to eat together, sleep together, watch TV together, shower together. I was terrified that you would think I was a clingy crazy girl. But you liked being together that often, too. So it turns out we're both clingy crazy girls. I'm okay with that.
I like that we can make each other laugh. I appreciate that you never fake it, even if it sometimes means I have to deal with crickets after a super bomb ass joke that you're just too lame to understand. Even though it's a dick move, I actually think it's kind of endearing when you say, "That joke wasn't funny, Sara. Try again."
We should probably be professional high fivers with how good we've gotten recently. When your sister and my best friend were showing off their high fiving skillz, we immediately realized that we had to step up our game. I'm glad we read that "tip" in Cosmo on how to give the perfect high five. We totally showed them up. I hope that we go through the rest of our lives trying to show other people's high fives up. New life goal, noted.
Sometimes I'm a really shitty listener. What can I say? I like the sound of my own voice a little too much sometimes. I'm sorry for all the times I've cut you off or interrupted you or talked over you. I blame being the youngest of four children for that personality trait. If you wanted to get anything in, you had to interrupt and talk over people. Blame my mother for having so many damn babies.
Sometimes I overreact like a psycho bananas lady. That usually involves me turning green and ripping my clothes off in a totally not-sexy-at-all kind of way while I RAAWWRRRR into a speech about why life isn't fair and how hard I have it. Luckily, you've learned to sit quietly and wait for me to finish. That seems to work best. (Maybe you could explain this idea to my family? I've known them for 22 years, and they still haven't figured it out.)
Sometimes I get mad at you for silly things like leaving your socks on the living room floor or not letting me stop for Starbucks on the way to work. I stand by those. You jerk.
You asked my parents for my hand in marriage, and I think that's possibly the most adorable thing you've ever done. (Especially considering my mother is scary as all hell.) You looked a little terrified when you sat down on the couch and asked me to put my phone down for a moment. I don't know if you noticed, but I never put my phone down. I was frozen in fear because your tone was scaring the shit out of me. I didn't realize that it was only because you were scared, too. I don't even remember all of what you said because I was so busy going through a list in my head of all the things I might have done to piss you off recently. (The list is long. It took a while to get through.)
I do, however, remember you saying that I'm your best friend and you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me. I remember attacking you with a hug, forgetting to even put the ring on. After finally putting the ring on and getting to look at it, you got upset because in all the excitement, you forgot to get down on one knee. You asked me to give the ring back, so you could do it again. "Are you kidding? You can't have this back. You just gave it to me! It's mine!" I told you.
It amazed me that you picked out the ring all by yourself. You and I both know that you are forbidden from ever buying me clothing because you're kind of awful at knowing my taste. But my ring? It's exactly what I always imagined. It's exactly what I would have picked out for myself. I'm not sure if it's the ring itself or the fact that I know you spotted this ring and immediately thought of me.
When we first moved in together, there was fighting. Lots of "Why can't you just pick up after yourself?!" and "Money issues blah blah adult boring fight stuff!" and "Haven't you realized I'm insane by this point??" It was like we decided to be at war with each other for no fucking reason. It was like that for a few months, while we got used to living with a significant other for the first time, for realsies, like grown ups.
Then it just stopped. After one major blow out, it ended and it hasn't happened since. We decided right then that fighting wasn't worth not being together. Coming that close to losing each other made us realize that we needed to change. And we did. Sure, we still get snarky and grouchy and short with each other. But there aren't any Nintendo Wiis being thrown out in the front yard now, are there? (Ahem. Stopjudgingme.)
I've discovered that we can still fight, in a good way. Rather than fight with each other, we now fight together against the stupid Universe, always trying to fuck up our days. Instead of yelling at you, I yell at God and the Universe and the World, and you yell with me. We tell each other how right we are, how unfair life is, how much the Universe sucks, and then we move on. Being a team is a hell of a lot easier than being opponents. Go figure, right?
I like that we're not your typical couple. I like that going on a date with you still gives me butterflies. I like that we can make fun of slutty girls and douchebags in bars together. I like that we get excited when we're planning our wedding. I like that you recommended "Back That Ass Up" for our first dance. You make me laugh. You make me feel silly and fun and giggly and dorky and loved, all without leaving me a million facebook wall posts saying, "I luv u so much babii." (Real men don't use Facebook, right?)
Happy Valentine's Day.
Sara (insert soon-to-be new last name here)
P. S. PAJAMAJEANS 4 LYFE.