It took me a long time to really understand what saying ‘thank you for my love’ actually meant. For years, I guess I just went through the motions.
You know, life gets busy. Wake up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, watch some TV, sleep. Repeat. I got so caught up in my own stuff, my projects, my problems. I saw what was right in front of me, but I didn’t really see it, if that makes sense. My wife, she was always there. Like the furniture. Solid, dependable, but I just kind of expected it. Never really thought about the effort behind it all.
The Routine
Here’s how things usually went:
- Morning: Coffee ready. Sometimes breakfast. I’d grunt a ‘thanks’, grab it, already thinking about my day.
- Work: Busy, stressful. Sometimes I’d call home, mostly to vent about my boss or some annoying task.
- Evening: Come home tired. Dinner would be on the table or close to it. We’d eat, maybe talk a little about my day again. Then zone out.
- Weekends: Chores, maybe see some friends, but mostly focused on relaxing my way.
Looking back, it was all very one-sided. I took a lot, but I didn’t really give back much thought or appreciation. I wasn’t mean, just… oblivious. Wrapped up in myself.
Then Things Changed
About a year ago, I hit a really rough patch. Work project went south, big time. Huge pressure. Felt like I was failing, carrying the weight of the world. I got moody, withdrawn. Snapped easily. Honestly, I wasn’t very pleasant to be around.
I expected arguments, maybe her getting fed up. But she didn’t. She just… absorbed it. She’d listen when I needed to rant, even if I was being unfair. She’d make sure I ate properly, even when I said I wasn’t hungry. She’d give me space when I needed it, but somehow always knew when to just offer a quiet hug or put a hand on my shoulder.
I remember one specific evening. I came home late, completely drained and defeated. Dinner was waiting. She didn’t push me to talk. We just ate quietly. Afterwards, she just said, “You seem exhausted. Go rest. Don’t worry about the dishes.” It was simple. But it felt like she lifted a mountain off my shoulders.
The Realization
It wasn’t one big moment, more like a slow dawning. Seeing her quiet strength, her unwavering support, even when I was at my worst. It made me stop and think. Really think. About all the times she’d done things like that, big and small, over the years. All the times I’d taken it for granted.
That’s what ‘thank you for my love’ is about. It’s not just for the good times. It’s for the tough times. It’s for sticking around when things get ugly. It’s for the quiet support, the patience, the understanding. It’s for loving someone even when they’re not very lovable.
So, I started trying. Trying to be more present. Trying to notice the little things she does. Trying to say thank you, and really mean it. Not just for the coffee, but for her. For everything. It’s still a work in progress, I’m not perfect. But I’m practicing. Because now I get it. It’s important. She’s important. Thank you, my love. Really. Thank you.
