To J.

For every food to which you've introduced me and for every time you've reached for me in the night.
For every brilliant song you've composed on the spot and for every hour of The Food Network that we've watched together and for every time you schooled me in Dr. Mario while the Kinks were playing.
For the walks and the Jumblies and every time you've kissed me.
For the notebook full of notes you've left me when you leave in the morning and for every time I've gotten lost and you've gotten me safely back home.
For every conflicted moment in front of the shelves at Rentertainment when we could barely choose the instrument of our destruction...

I love you.

Thank you...
For all the times you've forgiven me,
and for every time that you've helped me with my headaches,
and for bringing me here.
For the violence and the tenderness and for each tear, each drop of blood, and each shard of glass...
For every book we've read and for every movie we've cursed.
For laughing when I knocked you into the gutter under a Yellow Cab in Chicago after I'd led us three blocks in the wrong direction in the middle of a particularly cold night...
And for being the first thing I see when I wake up and the last thing I see before I fall asleep.

Really, shaving is the least I could do.

More years to come.