A Letter to My Husband
My love,
I considered saving this for Valentine’s Day, but let’s be honest—I’m not great at keeping things to myself, especially when it comes to you. Besides, waiting for a designated holiday to tell you how much I adore you feels unnecessary. I’ll just tell you now and probably again in a few hours when you do something ridiculous but still somehow charming.
I’m not here to argue about who is the best spouse. Love isn’t a competition (though if it were, I’d be winning, obviously).
What sets you apart isn’t just that you love me, but how you love me. It’s not about the grand gestures—though I wouldn’t say no to a spontaneous five-star vacation. It’s the fact that your love has aged like a fine wine, adapting to my chaos, my ambitions, and my ability to lose my phone in plain sight at least three times a day. You have never tried to hold me to some frozen-in-time version of myself, which is good, because let’s face it, the early-2000s me with some questionable choices needed some room for improvement.
There’s something truly special about a love that grows with time instead of against it. The newness and excitement of the beginning are fun, sure, but the real magic? That’s in the way you’ve continued to choose me, day after day, even after witnessing my full range of emotions while juggling the calendar.
Your love is steady but never dull, supportive but never suffocating, and, most impressively, patient enough to endure my detailed play-by-play breakdowns of scandalous book drama. You believe in me even when I’m full of doubt, and you manage to make me laugh even when I’m in a mood that suggests laughter should not be attempted. You are the person I trust most, the one who makes even the most mundane moments feel memorable, and the only person I’d willingly share my last bite of dessert with (a high honor).
If love had a rulebook, we’d probably still be flipping through the pages trying to figure it all out. But the thing is, we don’t need a perfect formula—we’ve got this ever-evolving, slightly chaotic, but undeniably incredible thing we’ve built. And if that’s not real love, I don’t know what is.
So, here’s to us—flawed, hilarious, and still somehow nailing this whole partnership thing. I love you, I like you, and I will continue to tolerate your questionable movie choices for as long as we both shall live.
Forever and always,
Katie
The Forty Files 