the amateur

So, out of the 8 readers of my blog I email with most of you semi-regularly, so I've probably told you about C. And the other person who reads this is his sister, so...she knows (hi Carlye!)

But for those of you that I haven't emailed lately (sorry!)....this is Chris. Or C, as I've been referring to him here lately.

In short, he's smart and handsome and kind and makes me laugh.

In long (not an actual phrase), he's the peanut butter to my jelly, the guy who rescues me from bats in my apartment, who checks for criminals when I call him in the middle of the night scared. He's the guy who opens my car door every time, surprised me with concert tickets, and listens when I vent. He's the most unselfish person I've ever met, and he makes me happier than I've ever been. When I ask him to tell me something funny, he always has something to tell. He loves bananas. And doesn't mind when I make him take a million couple selfies because I always think I look weird. He's handy and he loves Midas, and he made a pact to never tickle me.

Never in my life did I think I'd be so lucky. Never in my life do I think I'll be able to be as wonderful as he thinks I am. But I am willing to spend every day trying.