A Mushy, Gushy Message For My Valentine.

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, a day that causes many people to have outrageous overreactions of all kinds. The kind where you’re willing to pay $80 for 12 roses that normally cost about half that. The kind where you rage on at how the world is made for couples, and how you hate Valentine’s Day because it just reminds you of how single you are.

Well, this probably isn’t going to help if you fall into the later category, because I’m going to take this opportunity to write a mushy, gushy message for my Valentine; My Husband.

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I have only been married for 3 months, but I’ve been dating and fairly crazy in love with my Husband Stu for 6 years and 3 months. I got really, really lucky the day I met Stu, and I don’t intend to forget it. We technically met on MySpace (an indicator of how old our relationship really is…) because I was playing in a band with his best friend at the time. I thought he was the most ridiculously good-looking fellow I’d ever seen (online) and I wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to use my marvelous gift with words go astray in potentially meeting and winning my soulmate.

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So I started writing to him. Eased into it, general humourous emails assuring him I wasn’t a crazy stalker, but noticed that we had a friend in common and thought I’d say hi. Fast forward a few months, add hundreds if not thousands of text messages, MSN chats and all night phone calls and we decided it was time to get together face-to-face and see what all the fuss was about.

Stu was nervous. Would the chemistry pay off in person? How would we make it work when I was in Sydney and he was in Melbourne? I, on the other hand, just knew. He was it. He was the one I wanted. He was my forever boy.

And of course, he couldn’t resist my charms in person (cough cough) and we ended up kissing and falling in love very quickly. We spent thousands of dollars on phone calls, flights, and Stu even drove up from Melbourne to surprise me while I was recording vocal tracks for my album. At the core of it, we were perfect in balancing each other out, and he was my best friend.

Now we are married and Valentine’s Day seems a tad on the commercial side (especially so close to the day we got married, which cost a pretty penny) I like to think back to how it all started, and be thankful for such a wonderful friend in my husband. Someone who is always on my side, cheering me on, calming me down, talking me down from whichever tree I find myself stuck in, hyperventilating.

It’s not an easy thing to be my husband. I suffer from pretty hectic anxiety attacks, and would consider myself borderline OCD in some areas. I can be abrupt, irritable, moody, emotional, and generally hard to translate. My brain flips from here to there in a second and Stu takes it in his stride, slowly deconstructing my shutter speed thoughts and loving my uniqueness.

Part of this uniqueness can cause friction with some people and relationships and over the years Stu has helped me piece myself back together after some fairly scathing attacks on me as a person. He has helped me love myself, better myself and know myself better simply by loving me. He never judges me, he always listens, and he knows how to calm the anxiety when it gets me in its grip.

I love that our vision is set the same way, that we are working towards a future together, with both our eyes set firmly on the horizon. I love that he puts up with my pillow fortress in bed (I sleep with about a dozen pillows) and still finds a way to spoon me around them all. I love that he fights hard for my future, even when I’ve given up on it. I love that he goes to work every day for us, putting in massive hours to provide a way for me to pursue my passion as a writer and performer.

I love the way his silence said more than any condolences could the day of my brother’s funeral. I treasure every heartbroken second we spent together over the months my brother died. For every night I cried my heart out on his chest, for every time he didn’t say a word, and for the times he said exactly the right thing at exactly the right time.

Stu, I love your quiet mouth, and your huge heart. I love that you see clearly when my emotions cloud my judgment. I love that when you speak, it matters. I love your terrible puns, the way you shuffle your feet in the mornings when you haven’t quite woken up yet, your ridiculous obsession with making me watch the cricket. I love the way your voice raises in excitement when there’s a new hockey game for us to watch. I love that you are an all or nothing kind of man.

I love your excellent judgment, your cool, calm and collected nature. I love that you are the ice to my fire. I love everything that makes you who you are; your shoe obsession, your generosity, the little things you do when you think I won’t notice.

I notice.

And I love you for it.

I am so excited to do life with you. So honoured that you chose me to walk it with you. I promise to try my best to balance my side of the see-saw. I promise to keep learning from you, to keep loving you.

Thank you for being my first and only Valentine. I thank God for you every day.

 

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