It goes on and on and on and on

It feels like I’m constantly telling you how much I love you, so much so the words are lacking. It seems you’ve heard it all before and there simply is nothing I can say that will demonstrate that this is truly a monumental amount of love.

I love you more than you love metal. I love that you have expanded my musical horizons. Even though I don’t love all the roar-roar-roar that you accept, I have an appreciation for metal now. I love that when we started dating you were afraid your darker, complex musical tastes would scare me off. I have become interested in the culture and influence of metal in society, by watching documentaries with you. Also, the mix CDs you’ve made me throughout our relationship make me melt inside. New music that suits my taste shows how much time and consideration you put into selecting songs I’d like. Metal, and the music you’ve picked out for me, is calming. Just as you have “Boy” time with your music player and a long walk, listening to the tunes you’ve prescribed eases my stress level and makes the world okay. This is exactly how it feels when I get to see you after a long, hard day of dealing with annoying people, bureaucratic bullshit and my own special blend of personal problems.

On that note, I love you more than Steve Perry. If I ever see Journey in concert, even though the famed ex-lead singer and his perfect hair are gone, I would quite possibly die from excess glee. Don’t Stop Believin’ quickly became our own messed up love song, magically pouring out of speakers anywhere we’d happen to be. When we’re out and my ears detect the all-too-familiar tune, all of the feeling in my body rushes to my heart and I can’t help but look at you through the eyes of a giddy schoolgirl. Though I may be envious that his hair is nicer than mine, you are my only leading man.

I love you more than Fable II. You tease me that I’ve become a video game nerd, and boy, you know it’s true. I used to feel so sheltered since we were never allowed any sort of video game growing up (save for when the babysitter brought over her Gameboy and Tetris). I would politely decline playing old school Nintendo in University, because I didn’t have the mad skills everyone else developed so young. I love that you taught me something new. That you were so patient, teaching me RockBand, one of the pillars of our relationship. I can play that sucker on hard, or even expert, but being with you is always easy.

I love you more than road trips and vacation combined. My feet on the dashboard or the rush of take off used to mean freedom. The trip back home after a jaunt to Ottawa or a quick stop in Calgary would cause me to seriously reflect on past or current relationships, analyzing why they weren’t what I needed, or what went wrong. I don’t know what it is about returning to real life, but without fail, the sound of the engines lull me to sleep and take me to the land of lost loves. Maybe the return provides me with enough distance for objectivity. Flying back after our last delay in Vegas, as the engines finally did their thing, all I could think about was how you are The Boy for me. I look forward to exploring many new destinations with you. Even when it has seemed like the planets were aligned to diminish my sanity, every moment with you was truly vacation.

I love you more than breakfast. I didn’t even used to eat breakfast. I couldn’t be bothered. For years, my Dad would wake me from my slumber by asking how I wanted my eggs, a vile food that I never liked. Making omelets, scrambled eggs or pancakes with you on weekends has become one of my most favourite moments. It’s always delicious, even more so because, by that time of day, you’ve already satisfied my caffeine addition. Even when crappy frying pans prevent your omelets from turning out just right, the time I get to spend with you in the kitchen is perfection.

I love you more than board games, card games, or any kind of games. Heck, I love you even more than winning. You’ve made me pretty good at Bocce. Settlers of Catan makes my heart race, even though you are too ridiculously good. I embrace my inner elderly person by playing hours upon hours of Cribbage with you, and have forced your family many times to quench my insatiable appetite for games, games, games. I love that you put up with me, and play word games like Scrabble or Quiddler, even though I should theoretically win every time. The happiness that I feel when playing games with family, or friends, or with only you, is unsurpassed by the happiness you bring to my life. And you know how obsessed I am.

I love you more than debate. Everyone knows that I am the opposite of confrontational, but that I can rant and rave with the best of them. I love that we get into intoxicated debates about the state of the economy, politics, and the environment. I love that we vote for different political parties and don’t hate each other for it. I love that even when we do fight, we acknowledge it’s because we care so much. I love that you encourage me to talk things out when I’d rather keep my feelings inside. All of the madness that could build and build until I become an angry, nasty person is mitigated because of you. I love that you are rational and keep me that way when my emotional nature threatens to bubble and explode. Healthy relationships aren’t relationships that are always happy, they’re ones where you can compromise and agree to disagree on everything else. Though we can debate about anything from politics to paint chips, it’s always done in a respectful manner without the low blows.

This is a love unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I handed my entire heart and soul to you, and have remained one distinct person. I miss you when you’re gone for even a day, but I can live independently from you. Recently, while walking around the city, caught in silent reflection of what I’ve achieved over the past couple of years since I’ve been in Edmonton, I realized that I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life. It helps that I have incredible friends, a great family and a job that I love, but it wouldn’t be the same without you. You encourage me to get involved with causes I’m passionate about, even when it means not being able to spend as much time together. You let me vent my frustrations, while easing my stress rather than spurring my anger. I love everything you are, even though everything you are is different from me. Just when I don’t think it’s possible to love you any more than I already do, I realize that my heart has grown two sizes that day.

Long story short, I love you a lot. Just so you know. Happy Valentine’s Day.

In addition to being added to The Boy's Valentine's Day card, this post is my entry for February's 20-Something Bloggers' Blog Carnival.