Orange Gummy Worms/I love you, Chief.

There are these gut feelings, coincidences,

some words said, him calling just as I'm thinking of him, I want to believe these are signs.

There’s this feeling in my body – it almost tingles - that must be some sort of sign.

He used the future tense. That’s surely a sign.

He looked at me - can’t explain it - he looked at me in this way... That’s a sign, right?

But I never fully complete that sentence. I can never give an accurate definition of this almost meaningless phrase.

Obviously, ‘it is a sign’ should usually be followed by ‘yes, buy that lottery ticket’. But it could also be followed by, ‘…that we’re meant to be.” The thoughts of a 16 year old girl; not a 34 year old woman who should really know better than to believe in signs and meant to Be’s anymore. This means that. That means this. I make conclusions and deductions based on ridiculous assumptions that because he used three exclamation marks instead of two that he is in love with me.

And sometimes, all it takes is for a well intentioned friend to tell you that one thing that puts it all in perspective. That takes the huge, dramatic romance you have created in your head, to reveal itself as something completely rational, mundane; as ordinary.

Me: It’s so weird. It’s like…with him, I have this feeling that he's the one for me, the one I'm meant to be with. There's a reason we found each other again.”

In my head, I wanted her to agree, I wanted her eyes to grow larger, her eyebrows to rise, and her breath to stop short. I wanted her to say “WOW! That must be a sign.”

Instead, she continued to wash her hands, she casually looked in my direction and replied:

“That’s just because you think he’s cool."

She’s right. I do think he’s cool.

To me, he is all that. My be-all and end-all.

He is so incredibly giving and thoughtful, I don't give him enough credit sometimes,

He is My man, my best friend - I am his baby girl, and I'm not ready to let it go.

I love him. I love him for who he is and for who he wants to be.

I love him for reasons big and small, good and bad, but mostly all this:

1. He makes me laugh. Loudly. Uncontrollably. (And occasionally at inappropriate times.) He once made me laugh so hard that I FARTED, in front of him. He's really good at doing the 'Elvis lip' thing, and he will do it every time I ask, even if I ask 20 times in a row.
   
2. I'm never bored. EVER. We've never run out of things to talk about. He is interesting. Even if it is just about his Mafia... He has things to talk about, he shares, it's cute. He's into stuff. He's smart.
3. When we buy Gummy Worms, he eats all of the orange ones. It sounds insignificant, but it's not. I hate anything that is orange flavored, so he picks them out, one by one, and then leaves all of the delicious flavors for me.
4. He massages my feet. Even though I ask him to do it all the time. 95% of the times I ask, he massages them. (Once, when he said no, I managed to sneak my foot into his hand when he wasn't paying attention. He was so amazed by how slick I was that he massaged my foot after all.)
5. He doesn't take me too seriously. Sometimes I can get a bit... moody. Not to blame it entirely on hormones, but... ok, it's always the fault of hormones. When I get moody and whiny, he makes me laugh, or he'll say "is my baby cranky today?" and then he'll give me a huge hug. That makes it hard to stay cranky.
6. He's an amazing lover! 'Nuff said.
   
7. He's a freakin' genius. 'Nuff said.
8. He's unbelievably motivated. I can't even begin to list all of the things he has done/is doing/plans to do, because if I did, if anyone who knows either of us read this, they would immediately know who we are. Seriously. Let me just say that being a Full Time dad is just the tip of the iceberg for my baby.
9. He's easy to get along with and a genuinely good guy. Even if I wasn't madly in love with him (I am, obviously, but if I weren't...), I would still want to be his best friend. I love him a ton, but I also genuinely like and admire him.
10. He has no idea how amazing he is. Nothing is worse than someone who is stuck on themselves (ok, some things are worse... leprosy, for example). He is attractive, he's intelligent, he's funny, he's accomplished, he's friendly, he's likable... and he can't quite understand why people are so impressed by him. One of my best friends has nicknamed him Chief. It fits. He’s humble and strong, spectacularly amazing – not to mention, incredibly gorgeous – my hero. I don't think he really sees himself that way though, and that just adds to his charm.

I don't need a sign. I love this man, and I cannot let him go. Despite all the signs so far, I just seem to be coming right back to where I started....It is hope....and it always – but always – dies last.