He got up at twenty after six to drive me to the salon. He bought me a juice and a chai on the way, and told me he loved me.
When they realized it had been overlooked, he agreed to pick up bubbly for the bride & groom's first toast.
He dressed to match me, and was ridiculously handsome in his black suit and orange tie. His hair was rockin' those sexy, sassy curls.
He told me how beautiful I was; not once - over and over again. And he meant it; I could see it in his eyes. He looked at me like that. You know what I'm talking about - that smoldering "I love you so much it hurts" gleam in his eye; the look that melts your heart and makes you pinch yourself because sometimes life is just too good to be true.
He danced with me. Oh, I love when he dances - he's so good at it. I'm not, but he works with me. When my two left feet failed us, he held me close and we danced in that traditional high school fashion, spinning in a circle on the same general spot on the dance floor. When we're there, we're the only two people in the world.
He stopped for Vietnam Kitchen on the way home, and then suggested we go into the little hole-in-the-wall bar next door for a beer. We did. We drank our beers on the front walk of a strip mall, still dressed in our wedding finery, happily chatting with the local Joes and listening to a man from central Europe practice his understanding of the versatility of the word fuck.
He was sitting here happily watching Kim Kardashian's wedding special (until he switched it over to AMC so we could watch last season's finale of The Walking Dead before the new season starts at 9). He was into the wedding special, though - don't let the zombie talk fool ya.
He's an amazing man. On this beautiful day that has been so full of happiness and love, as I watched my friends join their lives together, I couldn't help but wink at that sexy man at the end of the middle row and say a little prayer of thanks that I get to share my life with him.
Even if he won't marry me. ;)