I don’t think that will come as a surprise to anyone that Snake is my person. In so many ways that I can only hope that I am half the person to him that he is to me.
We’ve been together since high school with a brief break during college when he was actually still my person. He has been the one I knew I could count on even before we started dating because we started out as friends.
We have had family births, deaths, exciting excellent times and some really shitty ones. He is the one who I want to tell as soon as something wonderful happens because I know he will be just as excited as I am. When someone breaks my heart, he is the one who I know will understand and care.
He’s the person who forgives me when I say nasty things because I am angry and hurting. He’s the person who makes me giggle and relax when I am stressing about something unimportant. He’s the person who takes care of the things that he knows I hate to handle.
He’s the person who I love to travel the world with because he sees the things that I don’t and shares them with me. He’s the one who will do the crazy adventurous things with me that then become our benchmark for future adventures.
He’s the one who listens to my obsessive lists of things to do when we are going out of town knowing that I will pack for every contingency between medical emergency and natural disaster. And he doesn’t laugh at me. He’s the one who will go back and check that something is unplugged even though I’ve checked it 25 times because he knows that I won’t worry if he checks it for me.
He is, in short, my person. Always.