In love.

Well, since my 100th post was pure fluff, I've decided that my 101st post will be the one that has real substance. Okay, that's not not exactly true. Really I just want to write about something important to me right now, something that ranks a little higher on the scale of "will this matter in five years?" than my clearance decor shopping at Target. Not that the Target stuff is not important, of course.

Anyway, last night Torsten and I were half-watching the Nats game on TV. I was also perusing Target and Amazon for potential workplace bookshelf decorations (and by the way, can I buy plants online? Probably not, right? Does anyone know of nice plants that don't need natural light, but maybe like some nice fluorescent office light?) and blogging. Torsten was setting up our new wireless storage disk, which is very cool--300 gigs of space with a backup disk, and you can save to it wirelessly, and since it's backed up, it means that you don't have to save space-eaters like photos locally, which means that my laptop will run so much faster, because that's how cool this little piece of technology is (sweetie, now do you believe me when I say I'm a fan, even though I referred to it as "thing" yesterday instead of as "data protection device" or whatever the hell it's officially called? Whoops, there I go again).

Toward the end of the evening we both put away our computers and I lay with my head on Torsten's lap and he stroked my hair and we watched an episode of Friends. Afterward, I was sleepy so we went to bed. When we stood up, Torsten put his arms around me and said, "I love you." It's something that he's said a million times before, but it can never get old, and it gives me little happy shivers every time.

It is just amazing to be so in love with someone. There are so many things to love about him. When he leaves before me in the mornings, he comes in to kiss me goodbye while I'm still in bed, and if I'm not fully under the blanket, he fixes it. He teaches me expressions in German and tries really hard to help me learn. He has complete faith and trust in me, not just to never treat him badly but also to succeed in everything I do. He is always there.

He is so smart, and he knows so much, so much that he is my first point of reference for almost any question. But he's unassuming, and he doesn't announce his intelligence and breadth of knowledge, and he never looks down on people or compares their intelligence to his own. He's incredibly nice and always assumes the best in people. He is so, so generous, and effortlessly so--he genuinely likes giving and helping, and does it naturally and without expecting anything in return.

He makes really cute faces when he's upset, or surprised, or disgusted. He makes really bad puns but some of them are so bad that they become funny. His sense of humour beyond puns is clever and sharp. He cleans the kitchen often, and thoroughly, and if I ask him to stop what he's doing to help me chop spinach or peel shrimp, he is always willing. He has started accompanying me to the gym and he always wears his belt to monitor his heart rate to make sure that it is in the optimal zone. He has tried many times to make me get one of those belts for myself, and is frustrated that I keep refusing. He always wants to take care of me, but never makes me feel bad about myself. When I was upset that one of my favourite dresses was too tight, he was soothing and comforting and reminded me of how well I'm doing with Weight Watchers and the C25K, and how eventually the dress will fit again. He also refused to zip me into the dress as it was because he didn't want me to inhibit my breathing.

He bought me a multivitamin and makes me take it every day. He never pushes me with my efforts to get healthier and never questions my judgment about what I eat or whether or not I go to the gym. He never makes me feel like I'm not good enough as I am or that I should lose weight just to look good in a dress or that this lifestyle change is about anything other than good health. He also wants to improve his health, and always tells me how good the Weight Watchers meals that I've cooked taste, even if they don't.

He makes me feel beautiful. He takes pictures of me all the time, and exclaims over how good they are and how nice I look when he sees them later. Before I started paying careful attention to what I eat, he would sometimes bring me back something nice from the grocery store when he ran errands. Now, sometimes he brings me flowers instead. Sometimes when I am concentrating on something else I will look up and he will be watching me, just watching, and when our eyes meet he'll smile at me.

He is so eager, so open and so expressive. He cares deeply about what he does and he always honours his commitments. He wants to make other people happy, but he doesn't disparage himself and he goes for what he wants. He's ambitious, both for himself and for me. He's reasonable, and thoughtful, and considers his decisions carefully. He loves goats and he make the cutest little goat noise. He has a deep sense of ethics. He thinks it's cute that I want our wedding to be purple, and only protested when I suggested (kiddingly) that we get him a purple tux. When I beat him at a board game, he is simultaneously mad at himself for losing and happy for me for winning.

He's watched five seasons of Sex and the City with me even though he would much rather be watching Frasier or The Simpsons. He calls me cutie pie, a nickname that started as a joke but has now developed into something very complex--I can be unlimited other types of pie, like sleepy pie or grumpy pie or athletic pie. He rubs my back even when he's exhausted. He doesn't shave on weekends and having that stubble makes him feel like he's really relaxing. He wants to travel all over. When we talk about potential vacation spots, the options just spill. He laughs when I burp.

He is wildly excited for Kelsey Grammer's new show, Back to You. When I asked him what he would do if the show sucked, he said, "Don't talk like that." We independently thought of the exact same thing that we both wanted to do to celebrate our anniversary. He likes touristy open-top bus tours as much as I do. He is genuinely excited for me about my growing blog traffic. He thinks I'm brilliant at everything I do. He proposed to me after a hike when we were both all sweaty because he knew I would think it was romantic, and he was right. He loves my photographs and readily agreed to frame some of my 13x19 prints and use them to decorate our apartment.

He has a really strong relationship with his father. He will be a happy, involved, caring father. He will have trouble saying no when they ask cutely. I have faith that he'll learn to say no regardless of the cuteness factor. He only rolled his eyes a little bit when I insisted on purchasing a purple baby blanket with white polka dots even though we aren't planning to have a baby for several years. He patiently listens to me gush about my job and all the things I'm learning about web and communications and business strategy, even though he's been doing those things for years and already knows all this stuff. He engages in any and every conversation with me, even if the topic would normally bore him out of his mind.

And the incredible part is that all of this, all of it together is still just a snapshot, still two dimensional, still only the beginning of everything that is him and that I love. But really, what it all means is that I love him, and he returns that love. He gets me. And I get him. We understand each other, and we know each other. And that is amazing, and beautiful, and overwhelming, and wonderful. I love him.