(I love that new Kelly Clarkson song. Heck, I just love KC.)
To my husband, two days late for our second-eighth anniversary:
I know it's not perfect.
I know I mess up.
I know sometimes we don't see eye-to-eye, and sometimes we hurt each other.
But I would never want to live without the guy who met me at the bus depot, then ran head-over-heels, hands clasped and laughing crazily all the way to the courthouse to get married before they closed. And then married me again a month and a half later, already barefoot and pregnant, on the beach at sunset in February, so God and friends and family could witness our true love.
You are not perfect. But you are perfect for me.
My life would suck without you.
I love you.