4,000 nights of mad, passionate sex.
A few hundred blow jobs. (Got to work on that.)
5,000 or so orgasms.
17 months of pregnancy.
23 and a half hours of labor and no murdered husband.
A few dozen fights.
20 or so bouquets of roses.
Countless hours cuddling on the couch.
15 vacations.
Way too many nights apart.
7 different houses.
1 happy home.
11 years of marriage to the man I love.
For all the times I've wanted to bonk him on the head, I'd still choose him again and again, over and over, if I found myself back at the beginning. I love him more now than I did the day we married.
He gets me in a way that no one else ever will. And through all the deployments and long hours and children and friends, my world still always comes back down to the two of us.
He's my man. And I love him.
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