Gratitude

In my life, he has burst like the music of angels, the light of the sun.
 -slightly misquoted from Les Miserables

Life

is

good.

My husband, by the mere act of falling in love with me, set into motion a chain of events that has led us through much heartache and strife, through even more joy and happiness.

He brought me the world, and became mine.

Now, even when there is tension between us, he dissolves it.

"Turn over and face me, girl," he says. Like he knows - just knows the difference between me facing away for comfort and facing away because I'm wounded.

In the circle of his arms, no minor irritation can last. Or perhaps it's not allowed beyond the barrier. It melts away as my face presses against his chest.

I belong to him; I am well and truly bound. He knows this.

I am endlessly grateful for the joys of the life we have built together.

The best part has always been there, though, and that is the joy I find when his arms are wrapped around me. Missing that for a single night seems a burden too great to bear.

Today, I am grateful for our love.

I am grateful for the way he indulges my whims.

I am grateful that he works so hard to take care of us.

I am grateful for the scorchingly hot sex that we have on such a regular basis that I can't even remember it all.

I am grateful for his boundless patience, for the way that he is so very, very slow to anger.

And I am grateful that at the end of every work day, he comes home to me and sleeps in our bed, wrapping his long limbs around me and making me feel like the most treasured person in the world.