Undeserved

As a newlywed, of course, my husband would be one of the things that I want to blog about. For all the pondering I do, I’ve come to a slightly disheartening conclusion – I don’t deserve him.
Why do I say this? Well, here’s the evidence:
One time, when I was far too grumpy for reason and all I wanted was ice cream, Nathan drove us out of our way to stop by Wendy’s and get me a frosty. He didn’t crack a single joke at my hormonal expense, nor did he look bothered or annoyed by the detour. In truth, he looked completely chill, and, even, quite satisfied that he got to be my knight in shining armor in that moment. He was my provider, and he provided me with a frosty, which was my heart’s only desire.

Nathan does the laundry every single Monday. It’s his day off, and he does all of it, while I’m at work. He also insists on coming to my work to eat lunch with me. He vacuums, he puts away the dishes. When I was writing thank you cards for the wedding, he wanted to sit down and help me. (When even I didn’t want to sit down and help me.)
When I’m cooking a meal, Nathan will help me – boil potatoes, put on rice. Whatever I ask, he’ll do it. And when I cook interesting things, he’ll try it. When I made chocolate truffles, the other night, he tried one for me. He doesn’t even like chocolate, and, let’s be honest, I completely spaced an essential ingredient, leaving the truffles dry and powdery. But he didn’t complain! He tried it and said it was great, which made me beam in pride.
He’s a go-get-er. If something on the car isn’t working, he’ll fix it. If the water heater won’t start, he’ll investigate it thoroughly. He’s weird, just like me, and we never get tired of talking – whether it be about the latest bill going through congress, or about how we should start a Gigolo support group for a population at risk. He’ll tell me, with loving forwardness, when I’m nagging him, and humbly accepts my suggestions as well.
If I’m having a bad day, he wants to hear about it, just to listen. He’ll listen to my rants, my personal battles, and obsessions, without judgment or annoyance. He is understanding and patient, and can make me laugh through any drama. If I have to teach a lesson which makes me nervous, and distressingly pass him a note, he’ll change “I’m gonna die!” to “I’m gonna bake a pie!” and take my worries away.
He’s a dreamer, a philosopher, and a passionate writer. He dances outside with me, whenever we leave the house. He’s let me read to him, juvenile girl stories about princesses, dragons, and wizards. He fights “You’re pretty.” battles with me, and will never let me win. He serenades me with Michael Buble, singing to me that I’m his Everything.
When I have a bad dream and wake up, even in his sleep, Nathan reaches out to put his arms around me, unconsciously checking to see if I’m okay. One morning I even woke up to a donut and a hot chocolate for me on the kitchen table. He's the kind of guy who will walk with me in the moonlight, find a romantic place to sit, then tell me not to be embarrassed when we're walked in on by a group of skateboarders.
He's confident and self-assured, righteous and humble, and so it’s really quite obvious. I don’t deserve him.
But you know what? I’ve never been happier.