Since I just found out today on Twitter that it is apparently Butch Appreciation Week (how did I miss that??), I would be remiss if I didn’t say how much I appreciate my Butch spouse, partner, and all-around sweetiepie, Dirt.
Before I met Dirt, I had often been called “the least romantic person in the world.” And I guess it was true. I would roll my eyes so hard at Hallmark movies and other sappy fare that I was at-risk for a concussion. I honestly thought that all the hokey romance stuff was for suckers.
And yet. I always felt an underlying vague wistfulness that I couldn’t pinpoint. On the treadmill, I would repeatedly watch one of my favorite movies of all time, The Princess Bride (a movie, by the way, that Dirt steadfastly refuses to watch with me, which I suppose is rather ironic), and I would snort with derision at the sappy kissing parts ~ but somehow underneath my cynicism and sarcasm, I must have wanted what that movie was basically about: true love.
And then I met Dirt. And suddenly, all the love songs ever written suddenly made sense to me. It was like a cartoon-style proverbial lightbulb suddenly appearing over my head. Every love cliche ever written suddenly became real. Birds singing, blue skies…well, you get the picture.
There are so many things I could say that it would take more than a dissertation to write, so here are just a few of the many things I love and appreciate about her every day:
I love that she is the most stubborn, outspoken, opinionated person I have ever met. I love it that she is completely and unapologetically herself, regardless of the approval or disapproval of others. I love that she is up by 6:00 a.m. and fully coherent. I love that she loves our cats with a fierce yet mushy devotion. I love that she can cook anything from scratch (without a recipe), and that she comes up with creative meals every day. I love it that she realizes that she is Butch and can still love cats and cook delicious meals. I love the way she dresses, and the way her close-shaved hair feels when I rub the back of her head. I love that she works out every day, even when she is exhausted from work. I love that she makes me laugh so hard that my sides hurt. I love that she makes up silly songs about our cat, Ari. I love how she supports me and encourages me and never makes me feel bad for being a super-klutz.
I love being in love with her, because I have learned that happiness is not just about how much you love someone, it also is about how you feel about yourself when you are with her.