This is the mushiest, sappiest, most PDA-ish post you will ever see. If you read on and feel like vomiting, please blame yourself because you have been warned.
I would like to publicly thank my husband, Mac, for everything he does for me.
I love him because 12 1/2 years ago, at a band camp ice cream social, he agreed to carry a couch up three flights of stairs to my dorm room.
I love him because he didn't let me fail Physics of Sound when I was his partner.
I love him because he can sing a low C, two octaves below middle C. It's awesome.
I love him because 10 years ago tomorrow, he kissed me.
I love him because he has stayed with me for ten years: a hard first year of teaching, a mental breakdown in the midst of three years/long distance, two years living in a room in his dad's house and 3 1/2 years of marriage.
I love him because the only times he yells at me, it's playful, not mean, and he uses my four names: Megan Melissa Kelly Campbell!
I love him because when I feel stupid, he makes me feel safe and smart.
I love him because he still likes me even though I haven't been a size 8 for YEARS.
I love him because he lets me be quiet at night, bc I don't want to talk. I've talked all day. I actually think he enjoys the quiet. ;)
I love him because he encouraged me to sign up for weight watchers when he wanted to, so we signed up together. I love that he gets how difficult it can be when your body changes, and your mind hasn't adjusted yet. (I.e. I thought veggies are healthy for you? How does the ranch make it bad?)
Mac, thank you for supporting me through my ups and downs, both physically and mentally. Thank you for encouraging me. I love you.