I've been thinking a lot about how when you love someone, their flaws can become their charms. The strange, quirky, and even the most irritating things that they feel most self-conscious about, and what others, too, may find off-putting, can become exactly what you adore most.
I tend to talk too much and think too much and write too much. I hog the covers. I'm compulsively, unnecessarily early to any and every event. I have a fear of sleeping alone. I'm allergic to dust, I can't help but comment on every preview in movie theaters, and I'm so afraid of cockroach, I won't even watch Oggy and The Cockroaches.
I'm picky about certain vegetables, selfish about sharing my favorite foods, and stubborn when it comes to ordering anything but my go-to meal from familiar restaurants. I'm scared of driving and in theory, I love gardening, but in practice, I'd rather just lay out in the sun with a good book and a orange juice.
Ifo forgets to close wardrobe and put down the toilet seat. He trims his beard on my mirror desk and he lets his dirty clothes make a mountain on the floor. He gets lost in YouTube black holes, watching trailers or learning about weird addictions or the latest conspiracy theories. He can be easily distracted and also easily charmed, for better or for worse.
And despite, or perhaps because of all this, he loves me, and I love him, and our relationship feels stronger. Neither of us is perfect, to be sure, and every once in a while, we'll feel the need to point that out. If you asked us, though, we'd both admit to loving it all. To loving all of each other, even the worst parts, because we know those pieces and understand them and we're proud that we've learned to navigate those darker patches because that effort marks the difference between love and marriage.