Sorry, if I said that stuff to my husband, he’d come over and check my forehead to see if I was running a fever...and I love him to pieces.
Well, you will need to forgive me, as I'm a goo-goo-eyed romantic only just married. It's only been 31 years and so I still get that woozy feeling when I think of my wife.
sitetest
I... I don't know what to say. I know this isn't a Catholic/Protestant thing because we were married for 3 years before we converted (I think... it's all so fuzzy now). Oh wait, here's something though, you don't really love him to pieces because then he'd be splattered all over the floor, you mean you love him dearly. There has to be some poetry among the prose surely. Some room for Coleridge and Byron?