Honestly, some days I don’t feel a maddening sense of love for my husband. Please don’t misunderstand me, I love him every day around the world and back and to the furthest reaches of the heavens and back elebinty billion times. But there always isn’t a rush of love that bowls me over like a Weeble in the hands of an excited toddler.
But some mornings when I wake up, the growth of my love for him seems tangible. When my heart feels as if the love inside will cause it to explode.
Moments in time experienced, that I tuck away. I secret them away in my heart.
Today is one of those days. Where work beckons, but my heart would rather be knitted next to his. When his picture stirs up sappy, deep feelings and I realize I love him more than mere words could express and that the love I felt yesterday was miniscule compared to what I feel for him today.