You and i.

Last night I put on lipstick at 5:42pm because you were due home anytime, and I wanted a good, long kiss as soon as you walked through the door. You probably won't read this for a long, long time, since you're not into this sort of thing, but one day, when you do, (if ever), you should know a few things.
  
Sometimes I get lonely for you in the very middle of the day, and if our bed is still unmade, like it usually is, I'll turn the covers on your side, and lay right where you lay each night. It smells like you and I love it.

I love how routine your morning is, and how most days, it takes you longer than me to get ready, even if you don't admit it. I've come to accept you probably never will.

I think it's cute you talk to yourself in the shower.

From day one, we've laughed at the exact same things, which I've come to realize is a very clear, personal sign to me that we're meant to be together. Plus it makes everything more funny. Laughing with you feels good.

I think you're cutest when you're kissing our kids.
And when you're scrambling eggs for us in your underwear on saturday mornings.

You grow the meanest beard out of anyone I know. Which is studly and awesome.   

When you don't pay up on bets, I forgive you. And when the laundry sits in the basket for days and wrinkles your nicest shirts, you forgive me. We've all but mastered give-and-take.

You support my nerdy side. And my thrifting addiction. And somehow you always seem to know out of all the junk I drag home, which things I plan to keep (and not sell), without me even saying a word. I call that sort of person one who knows my soul.

Soulmates, we are. 

Best friends, partners in crime.

You and I.