7×70

Erin,
I hope that its okay if I share your seven year gift with the world. I hear people say it’s that seven year itch that can kill the love of a boy and a girl; a woman and man; the way they say its true for any business endeavor or plan. But Erin, I need you to understand that on August 9, ’03 when I took your hand, I knew you were no longer a girl. And you make me more than just man. And its no business of theirs; there’s no institution or business at hand. Erin, I need you to understand, I need you like I need to write and anyone who knows me knows that means more than blood and more than just air. Just your breath and God’s love could ever compare.

Erin, please know that although adversity has greeted us many mornings anew. I’ll continue to meet you in those places and navigate through. For seven more years times seventy, even if you have days when you don’t treat me fair; you won’t hear me say that I know longer care. ‘Cause I’ve fucked up again and again and you still meet me there, and there and there and all of the places my anxious mind wonders. Many nights I just sit and ponder where I’d ever be without you. I hope to never know the answer, although worries plague my soul and eat at me like cancer. Since that first time I called; I’ve just thank God that you answered.

You told your sister you saw a boy who loved Jesus and you. Erin I’m a soul whose life’s thesis is to serve God and serve you. And these two children with which we’ve been blessed. And any enemy or friend we’re blessed to encounter I guess. Erin, I confess to you my mood flips my faith dips in humanity, in God and in you. But you make me more human and my faith you renew. Stay with me Erin, seven more or seventy-two or seven times seventy. And I promise you too, that two things I’ll do i) I’ll fuck up: I’ll say things, I won’t say things I’ll forget flowers cards and letters and ii) I’ll stay by you I won’t quit and I’ll keep getting better; for better or worse; for now; and forever.

I love you.

Love,

me.

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