I Like

I like the way you always remember that I like my orange juice with pulp, my popcorn without butter, and that I can’t stand squash – fried, steamed or otherwise. I like that you understand without asking why I sometimes cry when I see men who are fathers and fathers who are men, holding their little girls’ hands, and smiling. I like that you listen with your heart, and eyes and hands. I like that you don’t have all the answers, and never pretend to. I like that you’re flawed, and strong, and funny, and kind, and smart. I like that you love books and Etta James, and think that the Road Runner is cool. I like the comfort we share, and that you say I make your heart beat faster. Then add with a smile, “But damn baby, what a way to go!”