Dear Drew,
I would pick you again if I had the chance. Do you know that? The years bring a sort of laid-back comfort as we fall into habits of taking care of the kids and keeping the house and getting the oil changed on the van and texting to ask you to pick up tomatoes on your way home. But we do it all together– side by side, the best kind of team.

It doesn’t quite feel like the electricity I distinctly remember the first time you held my hand, or when we sped off in my little Honda for a dinner out breathlessly exchanging every detail of every moment since we’d been apart.

No, this feels more like my dear ol’ sweatpants. The ones so worn in the elastic is hanging on for dear life with no fabric to protect it anymore. So cozy I can’t imagine tossing them. The epitome of snuggly comfort when the skies seem grey.

I mean no insult when comparing our love to a pair of sweatpants, I just want you to know I’m comfortable here. I love the way our arms fit around each other. I love the way we laugh together. I love dancing with you in the kitchen, and winking at one another over the kids’ heads at the dinner table.

I love being here with you making a mess of life with you and then taking a deep breath and attempting to put it back together. I like having little inside jokes with you.

I love the worn in feeling of our love and the cozy feelings between us. If I could, I would pick you again.

Yours,
Sheila
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