Today, as I sat in the waiting room of the immigration office in Detroit hearing you laugh and chat with the woman assigned to verify that our relationship is “real”, our daughter started kicking with the strength and vigour she shows so often.  I shouldn’t have been able to hear you talking since we had intentionally been separated from one another for the interviews, and I tried so hard to ignore your words, but blocking out your voice is a talent reserved for when I am annoyed with you — and that wasn’t today.  You were enjoying yourself; she did not stress you out, and I knew how happy you were to be sharing the magic of our relationship with someone.

I remember when we first found one another, we would say how we just wanted everyone to feel the way we did; we wanted to share this ecstasy with the world, and know that everyone out there had found their soulmate, the way we had found one another.  Every breath of wind sang to us.  Every spark of light glittered to our eyes.  As things are prone to do, our enthusiasm settled into comfort as time passed; but today, in your laugh, I found that overwhelming love sweeping over me again.

Do you know how much you impressed her?  I do.  You were in there with her for nearly thirty-five minutes, sharing our story.  When I entered the room and sat down across from her, she opened the interview with this: “I really enjoy family class interviews, because they tend to be the most relaxing and interesting part of my day.  Your husband was very relaxing and easy to talk to, and I feel really positive about you two already, so this will be short.”  I said only, “He can be like that,” but in my mind I was cheering THAT’S MY BABYDADDY!

I was in there with her for less than ten minutes.  It was probably the worst interview I’ve ever given; I told her honestly that I had heard a lot of what you said, although I tried to ignore it all, so I felt really self-conscious about possibly repeating your answers and then having us end up sounding rehearsed.  She didn’t need to talk to me; she already knew from you that we were genuine.  I stumbled over my words, I chewed on my lip so incessantly that she mimicked the expression at one point in what I assume was exasperation, and I certainly didn’t represent us very well.  In hindsight, this is foolish — as it stands, we already finish each other’s sentences and use the same expressions and phrases.  That’s what happens when you spend so much time with your best friend.

So, although we still have MORE waiting ahead of us, I just want you to know how proud I am.  When I tucked you in to bed tonight, and you pulled me close to tell me that you were proud of me, I wanted to laugh.  I didn’t do anything.   But that’s just the way you are.  You’re not always the most romantic or expressive man, yet that makes the moments when you are even more touching.

I love you, Chris.  Thank you for loving me.