Diary of a Marriage: An Open Valentine to My Husband

Because I love J. And because I probably won’t have time to write this all out in a card later.


Dear J.,

Thank you for filling up the little jar of Q-tips on our bathroom counter when it gets low.

Thank you for doing all of the grocery shopping. And all of the cooking.

Thank you for understanding that reality TV helps me unwind. And for sometimes watching it with me.

Thank you for putting the seat down.

Thank you for sticking some kind of ‘welcome home’ Post-It on our front door to greet me when I get home from work every night.

Thank you for filling up my gas tank when you notice that it’s nearly empty.  And thank you for no longer asking me how I manage to somehow never know how full my tank is.

Thank you for trying to help me stay on my diet, and for keeping your mouth shut when I veer off track.

Thank you for not wanting babies right now—or any time in the next seven years—and for understanding that motherhood scares the crap out of me.

Thank you for leaving your iPhone at home when we go on dates.

Thank you for scraping my windshield on icy mornings.

Thank you for calling me Usain Bolt when I’ve run two miles in thirty minutes.

Thank you for letting me tuck my cold toes in the crook behind your knee.

Thank you for letting me take up most of the couch. And the bed. And the closet space.

Thank you for listening to me talk about my day. And for understanding when I just don’t want to.

Thank you for not caving on the puppy issue, even though I go through random and intense spurts of wanting one. We both know I’d rather sleep than walk a dog around the block.

Thank you for not having a beard. They are itchy.

Thank you for being the best wedding date ever. Even though you wore a napkin on your head as a bandana at the last wedding we went to. It’s cool.


I love you,



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