He got up at five this morning to make bacon for me for BLT’s for my lunch.
I do have a point with that sentence - I’m not being facetious. It shows that he’s my best friend. He’s everything that I’m not. His half and my half together make a pretty good whole.
It’s hard to put into words.
My new girlfriend is very understanding, caring, and patient about my nervousness around her and lack of experience with women.
She has quite the ass, too. Right before she has to leave, we make out a little bit, then I give her ass a good, hard squeeze. Then she gives me this longing look like she doesn’t want to leave. 
Ya’ll made me sigh all over myself.
I have a love, who, unfortunately, doesn’t love me back. (Arrgh!)
He’s brilliant and inquistive. He’s got such an ear and talent for music that he learns new and bizarre instruments I’ve never heard of and can play most of the old standards (piano, organ, guitar, bass, etc) and uses these interesting sounds in the music he writes.
He frets about my eating habits. He remembered, several months after a brief, casual conversation, that I love shrimp and made sure we went somewhere that served shrimp (he lived in a different town) next time we were together. When we are in bed together, he worships my body and makes me feel more beautiful than any other man ever has–even when we aren’t having sex. When he hugs me, they are ridiculously long and deliberate hugs. Sometimes he sneaks up when I’m reading or cleaning the kitchen and will just watch me quietly with a look on his face that makes my heart flutter.
Or rather he did those things before he moved 1500 miles away. Broke my heart, but still, to this day, when I think of him, my heart swells a little more than is comfortable and a small, sad smile curves across my face.
This may sound hokey, I love her madly because she allows me to be me.
What’s not to love about her? 
Everything.
For at least ten years, I’ve had trouble sleeping. Every possible kind of trouble. I’d have a bout of traditional insomnia, followed by a bout of absurdly early waking. A night of tossing and turning all night, followed by a night of sleeping in 40 minute bursts that did nothing to make me feel more rested.
After meeting the future Mrs.WoodenFork, I’ve slept beautifully every night.
I could go on about the perfection of the curve of her hip, or the way she never fails to make me feel better when I’m blue, or the way the same couple of strands of her hair always escape and fall in a wild spray across her forehead, or her beautiful little seashell ears, but without being able to sleep, and to dream, I probably wouldn’t notice half of it, and definitely wouldn’t enjoy any of it as much.
I was just about to head out the door, but I’m so glad I saw this… we just had our first wedding anniversary on the 12th. I love my husband because I can’t get to sleep, we’re so busy talking into the night. He can literally make me laugh almost until I pee, and he knows things and is passionate about things that I would never have even thought about, and he brings those things to me like wrapped presents on a silver plate.
And on a more serious note, he’s kept me from drinking myself to death, and had patience with me along the road back to sobriety.
I love:
The way she confronts total strangers (i.e., grown men much larger than me) about their random acts of stupidity (like littering).
How her driving skills deteriorate rapidly if I’m in the passenger seat. (She says I remind her of her father – “Why are you aiming for the potholes?!” – even though I have never been critical. I am the world’s greatest driver though.)
In heated moments, how she can drag up my past moments of insensitivity from years ago with lead-ins like “You always…”
That she’s the world’s worst house cleaner.
__
Just thought all this sweetener could use some bitter coffee.
BTW, 22 plus years together (15 married) and the sex keeps getting better.
A short list…
Last night, we watched Field of Dreams together. Neither of us have seen it before. I know it’s a much beloved movie by many people, but about 30 minutes into it, we began the MST3k treatment. Maybe this just demonstrates that we’re both jerks, but if so, we’re jerks together and he gets me. We make each other laugh.
He takes care of me. I’m not helpless or anything, but I get absorbed in work and all of a sudden, the day and evening is gone, I haven’t eaten anything, and the cats are whining to be fed. He just calmly makes sure we’re all taken care of and assures me he doesn’t mind.
He named his Japanese Peace Lily “Robert” (as in Robert Plant) and he gets genuinely distressed if Robert looks unhealthy. A few weeks ago, he noticed it was drooping and cried out in genuine concern, “Oh, no! Robert!”
He claims he doesn’t like the stupid cats, but he spends hours playing/cuddling with them. Tara, in particular, is his shadow. She just follows him around the house and she always wants to “help” him cook dinner, pay the bills, fix things, etc.
He understands why meeting Jeff Tweedy (of Wilco) last week was literally the happiest moment of my life. And on Monday, when I buy tickets for my 7th Wilco concert, he won’t roll his eyes. He’ll just be excited that I got them.
He’ll watch Cary Grant movies with me, even though he’s not big on watching movies in general, and he doesn’t understand why I love Cary Grant so much in particular.
I love that she loves me for who I am and doesn’t try to fix what isn’t broken.
I love that I never have to read her mind. If she has an issue with anything I’ve done, she’ll tell me directly rather than make me have to figure out.
Along the same lines as above, I love how she doesn’t want to burden me with her problems, but I can usually tell when something’s up, and she’ll open up to me if I ask. I may not be able to help her solve them, but at least I can cheer her up.
I love that when something is bugging her that isn’t my fault, she doesn’t take out her frustrations or anger at me.
I love that in spite of her best efforts to wallow in self-pity (which doesn’t happen very often), I’m able to get her to have fun and enjoy herself anyway.
I love that we are both competitive type A personalities, but rather than compete to show the other up, we compete to reinforce each other.
Along the same lines, I love that neither of us “wears the pants” in the relationship. They say that usually one party in a relationship tends to be the more dominant, but in our case, we’re pretty much equals.
I love that we argue about who’s smarter, each of us insisting the other one is. (Her IQ does beat mine by 6 points.)
I love that she’s a great cook, and she thinks I am too. I have a great palette, I just don’t have a lot of practice. (I hate cooking for just me, so I don’t cook very often.)
I love that she knows more about beer than just about anyone else I know. She even brews her own.
I love that she and I can both appreciate looking at other good-looking women.
Along the same lines, I love that we’re both flirts, but completely trust the other person. If either of us ever decided we wanted someone else, we’d actually tell the other person first before anything happened. Although, the chances of something like that happening are essentially nil at this point, it’s all about respect for the other person, and it’s something we had decided when we first started dating. We both know that unless you are happy in your relationship, the relationship itself can’t be a happy one. You have to do what’s best for you. Sacrifices made because you want to are a wonderful thing, sacrifices made because you feel you are obligated to aren’t, and aren’t really sacrifices anyway.
I love that after almost 18 months, she says I still make her heart flutter when she sees me.
I love that while she was studying for her law school, she let me sit around her apartment and play on her XBox.
I love that she doesn’t beg for my attention. I give her attention because I want to, not because she requires it.
I love that even though I make more than her (and now that she’s in law school, I really make more than her), she still insists on paying her fair share of dates.
I love that she wants me to enjoy my hobbies, and even is willing to try them out.
I love that we are both smartasses and can exchange witty banter back and forth.
I love that she was there for me during a really horrible class I took when I was working full time while doing grad school.
I love that she trusted her own mind and heart early in our relationship when her former roommate suddenly let her insecurities get the best of her and decided for no good reason that I was the enemy and tried to get my girlfriend to break up with me. Somehow I supposedly reminded this roommate of her (i.e. roommate’s) ex-husband. Her phsically and emotionally abusive, drug abusing and dealing, alcoholic, philandering ex-husband.
Basically I love how for the first time in my life I’m in a romantic relationship that seems to take no real effort on my part. I can just be myself, and that’s more than what she needs, and all of what she wants.
Oh, and I love that she’s got great eyes and great boobs.
Saved the best for last did we?
Euthanasiast is my significant other, and we met because of the Straight Dope - and I cannot imagine ever being with someone else. He is my everything.
He is an understanding, intelligent, talented man. He’s big and strong and all of those great manly things that women love but he is also funny and sweet and caring. He is just so interesting to talk to and I am fascinated with him. I never seem to be able to get enough of him - his time, his love, his touch. He makes me cry from sheer amazement and joy, he’s so sweet sometimes. He does overwhelmingly romantic things that no guy I’ve ever dated before him would have thought of. Two years ago, for Christmas, he bought me an iPod that he filled with songs and made a play list of fourteen love songs that reminded him of me. He called it “Brandy’s Mix Tape”. He created a website for me and made all of the images himself after teaching himself to use Lightwave. It’s the first “phase” of his marriage proposal to me.
Just this morning, I opened my car door to find a box of biscotti on my steering wheel, with a card taped to the front for no reason at all.
He’s a great cook, a fantastic writer. He’s stolen the hearts of my two younger daughters, who have finally managed to fill a void in their lives and found a man they are proud to call “Daddy”. They think he’s the greatest thing ever and I couldn’t ask for more than that for them. I could go on for days about what I love the most about him, if we had the time to take a never-ending journey through my heart but what I love the most is just that he is everything I ever wanted, needed or dreamed about and he is mine.
I’m sorry, jarhockey . 
For me, it’s her unconditional love and the fact that I can be myself and she loves me for me. And her green eyes, the most beautiful eyes in the world.
Because he loves me unconditionally when I am extremely unlovable at times.
Becuase of all the people in the world he could pick from he chooses me every time.
And because there is nobody else in the world that makes me as happy as he makes me.
The Lady in Red
Because when we fell in love, we’d have days where our continuous conversations consisted only of couplets of love.
Because the sky is bluer, trees greener, air clearer, kittens cuter, and the world more beautiful since she came in my life.
Because she changed my life.
Because she’s so cute, so pretty and so beautiful-- a hard act to pull off all three.
Because she makes me smile and laugh.
Because she tolerates my bad puns, which also make me, but only me, smile and laugh.
Because the stress of the day all disappears when I get home.
Because I’m a better person and want to become even better for her.
Because she’s so smart.
Because I feel stronger now she’s with me
Because she’s so alive
Because I’m happier with her.
Because she tries to hard to make me happy. Which is silly, since I’d be happy with her just being there.
Because we dream together of a happy family
Because we talk and don’t fight.
Because she only gets mad at me when I deserve it.
Because once an issue is gone, it’s gone. She doesn’t relive the past.
Because she sings her silly nicknames for me in the shower, and sounds so happy.
Which is wonderful collectively and separately.
That she has silly nicknames for me.
That she’s happy.
That she takes showers.
What lovely pictures! You have a stunning wife. 
:: rereads thread, takes notes ::
How many wedding dresses did she have?