Often, I get asked how it is that Darren and I are so happy. Sometimes I'm the one asking! After all, he didn't plan to be married to a 100+ pounds-overweight woman when he said "I do." I marvel that he still thinks I'm beautiful. But I suppose that's the secret, really. He loves me so unconditionally, and I love him the same way.
Many years ago, things were not so blissful. The Depression Demon has his grips in me, and I could not be loved. Darren never gave up, even when I pushed him to...even when I pleaded with him to go...even when I was horrid and ugly and maniacal and mean. He saved my life, and I don't say that lightly.
Just this second, he noticed from across the room that I was scratching my back with a pencil. He jumped up from the couch and exclaimed, "Hweese! You should TELL me when you have an itch and I'll come over and scratch it for you." Then he took the pencil from my hand and scratched my back from top to bottom.
Friday morning, I went to bed at 7:00 after working all night. Darren and I talked before I dozed off, and he told me I was nuts for pulling an all-nighter. At noon, he called and said he was coming home for lunch. Usually when he says that (which isn't often, actually), I'm too lazy or busy or scheduled to make him anything; he slaps his peanut butter sandwich together by himself. But on Friday, I decided to make his favorite lunch of all time: macaroni and cheese. It took him forever to get home. The macaroni was getting gooey on the stove. Finally, he blew through the back door, beaming from ear to ear, carrying in his hands a Route 44 Diet Vanilla Coke from Sonic and an order of Cheddar Peppers. "I figured you'd need the caffeine today." He'd already eaten.
And THAT's what makes our marriage happy. Little things. We give selflessly every day. Sometimes it's as small as making macaroni and cheese when we're dead on our feet. Sometimes it's as insignificant as walking across the room to scratch an itchy back. Sometimes it's a random compliment, or a wink across the room, or eating at a restaurant that you don't even like.
It's the little things.
They never fail to add up.