My wife asked me the other day to write down a few reasons why I would miss her if she were gone. Obviously, it was a wily womanly way to endeavour to persuade me to write down why I love her.
Women have this natural need to be reassured that we love them, while men have the “I married you, didn’t I?” philosophy which, ironically, women never seem to appreciate as being reason enough!
So here I am, keyboard in hand, trying to put into words why my wife means everything to me.
I can sugar-coat it and try to add some flowery prose to it, but honestly, the reason I love my wife is rather simple…
I love my wife because she loves me.
It sounds stupid put like that, but that is what it is. She is the only person to have truly, honestly loved me for me – not the public facade we all put on, but the man behind the mask.
She loves me when I am angry, grumpy and even when I am sick. She loves me when I annoy her or make stupid mistakes; she loves me when I forget important dates or am too preoccupied with other stuff to give her the attention she deserves.
The best thing of all is that she does not have to, but she does and that is something special!
My heart was hers the moment she looked into my eyes and saw the real me and loved me more.
I know I do not tell her enough how I love her, but I am a man and we just don’t do that.
So here is what I can say in as manly a way as possible.
If I lost my wife, I would die.
Not in the physical sense, but inside, and nothing would ever be able to fix it.
So love is a very dangerous thing and maybe I do not say it enough because it is the only thing that has ever really scared me. She is my reason to live.
