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The one who sees me when nobody else will look.

The one who smiles because I smiled.

The one who pushes me to do better, with kindness and support.

The one who misses me even when they were just there.

The one who loves my children-as if they were his own.

The one who shows up for them where others did not.

The one who respects me as a parent.

The one who respects my children.

The one who would rather spend the day with them then a night out on the town.

The one who challenges me to accomplish my biggest dreams.

The one who supports me through anything.

The one who values the love I give.

The one who likes when I talk too much.

And loves to listen to every word.

The one whose hands are strong and sturdy.

But light as a feather when they brush any part of me.

The one who loves music as much as I do.

The one who listens to the words they sing.

And uses them elegantly to tell a story.

The one who values my creative side.

Who wants to explore the capabilities with me.

The one who cares deeply for the rest of the world.

The one who doesn’t intend to cause others pain.

But when it happens he truly apologizes.

The one who doesn’t take advantage of my quirks and flaws.

Who respects my over explaining and appreciates the honesty.

The one who cherishes my vulnerability. 

And knows its a difficult things to let go of.

To the one who loves when I cheer them on.

The one who is grateful for my loyalty.

But doesn’t take advantage of it.

To the one who doesn’t care that I can be a lone wolf.

The one who puts me first, like I will him.

The one who I adore. 

Who laughs when you shouldn’t, but respects peoples feelings.

The one who wants to see every comedian next to me.

The one who doesn’t need his ego stroked, but takes all my kindness to heart.

The one who thinks it’s cute that I hate to cook.

The one who doesn’t toy with my anxiety.

The one who loves me for my OCD, PTSD, bipolar disorder.

The one who takes all mental illness seriously.

And respects my goals of advocating for those who don’t have a voice.

The one who is understanding of my constant need for reassurance.

The one who doesn’t get mad when I jump or flinch when he moves.

Instead pulls me in close and promises me he’s not them.

One who doesn’t want to hurt me or see me hurt.

And has my back when I’m not around.

The one who builds me up where others tore me down.

The one who I can give everything I have to.

The one who loves to kiss me–not just goodbye.

The one who treats my body as a temple.

The one who can ruffle my feathers and race my heart when the time is right.

The one who wants to make me smile–even if we have a fight.

And when those fights occur he remembers the scars others put there.

And using communication and reassurance–even when it’s hard.

The one who doesn’t use words to tear me down.

Or silence to make my anxiety take over.

The one who values how when I do something wrong, I try my hardest to fix the problem.

The one who loves me as much as I love him.

The one who loves to laugh at my corny jokes.

The one who I can validate and reassure how wonderful they are.

The one who enjoys my sweet side.

And loves when I tell them I love them.

The one who cherishes my big heart.

Who enjoys a documentary or 2-

More like all of them.

The one I can talk to about anything.

From the human mind to why they put wholes in cheese.

And everything in between.

The one whose intelligence I look up to.

The one who thinks my opinion is important.

The one who wants to grow old right next to me.

The one who loves the idea of family memories.

The one who wants to sit with no technology and talk about our nightmares and dreams.

The one who can help me when I forget where something is.

The one who softly holds my hand while he drives.

And squeezes a little when the moment is right.

The one who wants to show me off.

Who thinks I’m beautiful when no one else does.

To the one who is strong enough to hurt me, but sweet enough to know he never will.

To the one who makes me feel protected.

To the one who doesn’t enjoy bullying others.

To the one who wants to make people’s days.

To the one who doesn’t care that I’m the conductor of the Hot Mess Express. He wants to be the engineer.

To the one who has goals and dreams of his own.

That I can help and values it.

The one who doesn’t control what I do,

But I trust enough to value his opinion when he thinks I’m wrong.

The one who is smarter than your average bear.

The one who wants stability and structure, but can make surprises fun and not trauma.

The one who lets my daughter do his nails.

Then builds legos and plays baseball, or guitar, or something my boys love to do.

The one who doesn’t care that I think kids are the best.

The one who doesn’t mind that I don’t have really any friends.

But understands I’m in a pivotal moment of my life that means letting go to make room for new.

The one who doesn’t let the world take advantage of me like it has.

The one who wants life to make sense.

The one who understands the effects my past has on me.

So when I don’t quite understand and ask too many questions.

He answers each one with patience and understanding.

The one who loves me.

The one who I love.

The choices and tries at love-

Have led to a place in my life-

Where settling will never be an option again.

They showed what I do not want.

And helped me value what I do.