I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweetheart.

It's Valentine's Day, obviously. I know there are lots of people who don't care much for Valentine's Day, and I get it, I really do, because yes, yes, you're right, those magnetized kissy bears and giant stuffed animals are probably silly and without any real purpose and, yes. Yes, you're right, people shouldn't need a holiday with overpriced flowers and cheesy greeting cards to remember to say those three words, but. BUT. I think the world could use a whole heck of a lot more of those three words. Yes? So, to me, a holiday all about those three words is not really so bad.

Of course, my perspective is flawed. It is biased. I am forever bound to a man I fell in love with when he was just a boy, who is good and kind and in every way my partner and equal only no, he's not, he's better and stronger and gentler. I know the last thing anyone wants on Valentine's day (besides those awful fruit filled mixed chocolates, of course, which are really horrid) is to read some mommy blog about how great that one girl's husband is. It's sappy and barfy and not nearly as entertaining as those captioned pictures of cats we'd all rather be looking at. The thing is, though, that I believe the world could use more of those three words, and since I have love, feel love, and see, taste, and touch love every single day, I'm going to mention it a time or two.

Let me just say how acutely I feel how lucky I am. Not every girl who stands smiling in a white dress nervously clutching a clump of flowers finds herself holding that same boy's hand nearly 7 years later. Not every girl even gets to the white dress part of the game; women lovelier and smarter and kinder than I have an empty left ring finger and there isn't any decent way of assigning any bit of reason to it. Marriage is a lot of work, sure, but in my case I'm not ashamed to admit it is also a great deal of good luck. 

Or, as I prefer to think of it, great blessings.

And so, to my Darling, because my words are not as pretty as Elizabeth Barrett Browning's, indulge me while I invoke a few of hers.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach

And I'll only add this:
Sometimes I wonder what word in English might best describe you. Husband, of course, but that is quite functional, partner smells of a business relationship, lover too intimate, best friend too young, companion too old.

So then.

You must be my beloved.