To My Lover

I know. Love, right? I'm sick of it. I've always sworn that anything I write should be for entertainment purposes--I have very little interest in writing words that aren't funny. Believe it or not. I've just posted two serious love letters right in a row, and understandably, nobody's liked them. I need to stick with humour. Don't know why I forgot that.

Unfortunately, I have to write just one more love letter; it would be very rude to write a series of love letters right before St. Valentine's Day and not include one to my husband of four months [especially since I've spent too much money on groceries this month, and this post is going to be the only valentine he gets from me]. But tomorrow, it's back to funny business.

Dear Poor Kyle,

I love your face. Especially when it's shaved--all the way. Come to think of it, I love your face while you're shaving it. I've always wondered if you make those ridiculous faces only when I'm watching, or if they really are necessary in order to get all the nooks and crannies.



In fact, your face has a lot of nooks and crannies. I am fascinated by your smile--the way your face etches deep lines from the edge of your nose to the corners of your mouth. Everybody who doesn't get Botox has the same lines, but I like yours best. I wish I could number the crinkly eye wrinkles you get when you really, truly smile; I would count them if you would ever sit still long enough.



I love almost everything about you {I'm not one of those e-Harmony girls who will daftly say "I love absolutely everything about you." That's not even possible. It's not how I roll}. I don't love when you get mad at me for trying to warm up my feet by wedging them under your legs at night--it's cold in Canada, for goodness' sake. I don't love that you won't run the 5K with me--it's only five Ks. And I don't love thinking about the time you wouldn't hold my hand at that yard sale we went to last summer. Yes, I still remember it--I almost broke off our engagement because of it. I remember most things.

But...I do love you--I'm pretty sure marrying you was the right choice (okay...I'm 100% sure). Happy St. Valentine's Day, Poor Kyle.

Love,

Me