Morning Coffee

When I wake up he's already making coffee
By the time I visit the bathroom and put my robe on
(a warm terry one, not sexy but cozy)
he's reading the paper, a cup of coffee in hand

He smiles when I walk in the room
Gestures to a second cup
Already prepared for me
I glow
He's always thinking of me
He's added cream and sugar for me
But I notice
(smiling to myself)
That each few days he's adding a little less of each
He wants me healthy
Quietly helping me lessen the crap I've been habitually putting in my system
Turns out I don't miss it
Did he know I wouldn't?
Did he know I'd want to be my best self when I'm with him?
I think so

I've never had someone care for me to this extent
Not obsequiously catering to me - just constantly thoughtful
Anticipating my needs and satisfying them
Without resentment or expectation
But of course
His words and actions
Make me want to do the same for him
I love him
I love making him smile
And seeing the adoring look in his eyes
And the sometimes amazed expression on his face
As if he can't quite believe I'm here
that I love him with all my heart
that my passion matches his

This love
This happiness
This existence
This is Everything

I sip my coffee
and sit down next to him