A (Belated) Love Letter

My Dearest Gregory,

Why do you keep me around?

I'm gonna be 32, y'know ... "cute" isn't really appropriate anymore.

How much longer do you think I have ya? It's been almost 15 years since out first date. Did I mention I'm 32. Years. OLD? I never make you chase me anymore.

It's certainly not my cooking.
Not my flair for fashion.
Not my house cleaning.
Not my sense of humor.
Not my hot hot hot body.
Not how I respect your need for privacy from the world.

Most of the time I feel like a block of cement dragging you down with me. I often feel guilty for not being what I think I should be for you. I can hear you in my mind asking me why I don't just DO that then. I constantly worry I am not good enough, not your equal, not enough. I want you to love me the way I am.

I feel that I keep you back, keep you down, keep you trapped.

I don't know that I add much to your life.

I didn't start out to write this post this way. I thought it would be a sappy, cutsie thing. But I always worry you'll find out how awful I am and that'll be the end of my truly perfect life.

You have given me more opportunities, given my life greater meaning and purpose, uplifted me, you constantly try to help me be a better person.

and i fight and i argue and i bitch and i moan.

I'm stuck - should I go pick you up cuz I can't wait to see/hug/kiss you or clean up first cuz it'll mean so much to you?

Pretty much, I know I suck. And not in the hot, new, red vacuum way. In the old crappy, held together by a bungee cord vacuum way.

Thank you for loving me.

I love you more than you will ever, ever know.