The good stuff

• How he came to the hotel room I was living at...and left when I asked.
• How he kept coming back.
• How he kept staring at my breasts when we played cribbage that first time. I wore that shirt with the Chinese keyhole collar. That's where I wanted his eyes, and bless him, that's where his eyes were.
• How he makes me laugh.
• How he makes me try and see and do new things.
• How he puts up with my crap.
• How he smiles everytime I ask him if dinner is good, and answers with a resounding, "Mm-Hmmm".
• How he touches my leg or my arm during loading screens.
• How he kisses my forehead.
• How he tries to squeeze me just a little too tight...but I know he just loves me that much extra.
• How he proves that he loves me.
• How his fingers feel in my hair.
• How he smells.
• How he'll put up with watching the crap I like, even if he makes fun of it all the way through.
• How he stopped horsing around on the icy road when I started to cry. I hated that he was doing it in the first place, but it meant so much for him to stop and put his hand on my head instead of insisting I'd be fine.
• How he decided to take the blanket outside one night for sex.
• That kissy face we make at each other, instead of saying anything.
• How he talks in his sleep.
• How he laughs when he really thinks something is funny.
• How he followed behind me so patiently that night my car was dying.
• That time we stood in front of the mirror, with his hands cupping my breasts, and he told me, "What's more beautiful than that?"

You are, Dave. I'm sorry, but I can't write all the good stuff. There's so much more than the bad stuff. Sounds facetious, but it's true. You're beyond good to me. I love you.