I was sitting in the car yesterday, in the passenger seat while Mac was driving. We were coming home from lunch. He had taken me out because he wanted some time to talk grown up stuff without little interruptions. He wanted time to talk to me because I have been a little sad of late. It's not because of any major reason. There have just been some little things bringing me down. So we had talked and He let me say all the things that were ganging up on me. Then He told me how much He loves me. He told me how special I am to Him. He reminded me that no matter how sad I get, He is always going to be with me. He will always be the one holding my hand.

And when we were back in the car coming home and I was feeling much lighter because I had been able to say the things I needed to say, I thanked Him because no matter how sick I am, no matter how bedraggled I look after a sleepless night with sick children, He still loves me. He loves me when I am joyless. He loves me when I laugh. He loves me when I sit quietly on the couch and watch television. He is the only person in the whole world who loves me no matter what. He is the only person that doesn't need me to pretend I am ok when I am not. He wants me to be happy, but He doesn't need me to pretend to be when I am not.

I told Him how exceptionally lucky I am to have Him.

He reached over and patted me on the thigh.
"Yes." He said thoughtfully. "You are lucky."

I laughed.

Sometimes being loved is what it takes to make it better.

I cannot imagine being better loved.