foil [ˈfȯi(-ə)l]: noun; a person or thing that contrasts with and so emphasizes and enhances the qualities of another
Because he is logic, and I am emotion.
Because he is rigid, and I am free.
Because he is old-fashioned, and I am new-aged.
Because he is science, and I am faith.
Because he is nature, and I am nurture.
He reminds me to be logical, and I remind him to feel. I mention we should relax, but he reminds me not for too long. He tells me the facts, and I tell him there might be more to the story. I tell everyone to dream big, but he mentions everyone should prepare for reality. He grounds us in the past, while I bring us into the future because two foils, when brought together, make each other stronger, whole.
Because he helps me overcome my fears.
Because I help him remember sometimes it’s okay to jump in without a plan.
Because he teaches me something new every day.
Because I remind him to do something new every day.
Because he keeps us held together with strength and rationale.
Because I keep us together with optimism and hope.
And together, we love each other first. We laugh. We travel. We push each other to be better, the best. We make our own home wherever we want, wherever we are. We do, we see. We challenge each other. We are both selfish and selfless. We surprise each other. We comfort one another. We send each other love letters in a million different ways a million times a day, always signed off with the unspoken promise of staying loyal, staying youthful, staying close, staying friends, staying in love.
Happy three years, J. Thank you for all the little things you do for me every. single. day. You’re my sweetheaaaarrrt…