My taste in music is changing dramatically again and I keep wondering who i’m going to be this time.
I honestly believe that you love me so goddamned much, that your love has been carrying this relationship for the past 5 years. Your love has carried my doubts and your stresses and my failures and our children and the weight of our family and 600 miles of separation and somehow you still have enough love at the end of the day to tell me to take a bath and you’ll do the dishes. And the laundry. And change the diapers. All these things you do and yet still, I can ask you the question, “Is this a stupid bet?” And you have enough love yet, to believe in me.To tell me I’m worth the complete upheaval of our family. To tell me that I can do whatever the fuck I want. And you believe I will. Your love is huge, and it terrifies me.
The closest I have come to feeling surety in this life, is that I believe the above, more than I have ever believed to be true, any single thing.