I Love...

I love...
  my husband. He's the tall, dark and handsome guy who would give me the moon
  if I wanted it. I love his dark eyes and hearty laugh and shyness and even his axe-
  murderer deep voice. He is the one who taught me how to love me; that I deserve
  to be loved. He is the salt in my food...that slice of fresh lemon on the side of my
  tea glass. He is my second wind. He isn't a necessity for me to live....but he sure
  does make my life nice. When he reaches for my hand on the couch while we sit
  in the dark watching old movies on t.v., I feel his love just pulsing from my palm
  up to my heart. And I feel it flutter like it did when we first kissed at that souvlaki
  stand back in Athens so many years ago. When he brings me a Diet Pepsi home
  with the bag of sweets for the children, I know that he thought of me while he was
  out and that he knows it's my favorite. When he installs that extra wall socket in
  the kitchen to make my life more convenient even though I never asked him to do
  it, I know that it's because these acts of kindness are his way of showing me how
  much he loves me. And when he is far away from home at work in a foreign land
  and he texts me on my mobile phone just that one word "Habibty" (Arabic for my
  beloved), I know that he misses me and wishes that he were home. I love him.
  And he loves me.