Recently I was at a party and struck up a conversation about dating with one of the women there. She told me about how the suitors who were pursuing her had both professed their undying adoration, but weren't making much of an effort to actually see her.
"Actions speak louder than words," I told her.
Such a simple phrase. Such monumental consequences.
The evil ex I had before I met Mr. Wonderful filled my ear with such saccharine, I nearly had to see an audiologist. He told me I was the girl he'd waited his whole life to meet. And then he got someone else pregnant.
When I met Mr. W, I wholeheartedly embraced the fact that he wasn't a words man. He was quiet. A slow mover. But absolutely unwavering in his caring behavior. He never made me doubt how he felt. He always showed me. Even when he let me hang after saying I love you—it took him about 30 days to say it back—his affection and attention were constant. Solid.
Yesterday he returned from his 9-week work stint in London. 7 days ahead of our wedding. We didn't need words. The minute we saw each other, we just smothered one another in kisses.
This morning, as we lay cuddled in bed, he told me he felt like he was starting a new chapter in his life. I rolled over to tell him how I felt. Ever so gently, he pushed my cheek in the opposite direction. He could have said, "Damn girl! Your breath smells like a sewage plant!" But instead he just quietly turned my mouth hole away from his nose holes.
That's my man of action. Always showing me what I need to know.