How Did I Ever Get So Lucky To Have Her As My Own?

I love my sweet, darling, amazing, mind-blowing, beautiful, gorgeous, goddess-like, sexy chickadee.
How did I ever get so lucky to have her as my own?

I’m strange, weird, odd, and I have issues. My self-confidence lives on a roller coaster.
How did I ever get so lucky to have her as my own?

Sometimes I say too much, and sometimes too little. (Most generally, I say too much.) I can be harsh and cruel. I’m load and obnoxious. I don’t stop and think about consequences.
How did I ever get so lucky to have her as my own?

I have a short attention span and frequently forget things.
How did I ever get so lucky to have her as my own?

I’m an emotional mess. I’m a “tad bit” to obsessed. Too clingy, yeah that’s me. Really, I should start letting there be more physical space between us. Simple things.
How did I ever get so lucky to have her as my own?

My imagination runs crazy with simple fantasies. I can’t help it- she’s always there, on my mind; the silly muscle in my chest, races around, beating at mere thoughts of her. This can’t be healthy.
How did I ever get so lucky to have her as my own?

Every song, well almost every song, can make me think of her, a single lyric, a beat, any part of the music plays in my ears- but never like her voice does.
How did I ever get so lucky to have her as my own?

I’m sketchy weird. I want to know everything about her that I can, and I don’t want to forget it, so I write it down; I over step boundaries and get into personal business with my superfluous, stupid questions.
How did I ever get so lucky to have her as my own?

I complain a lot, ranting rather frequently; apparently, not complaining only works for hiking trips, making travel easier. I could talk your ear off to; I always have something to say…
How did I ever get so lucky to have her as my own?

I care too much, I care too little… I’m over-active (“Believe it!”) and I’m lazy… Rarely is there a middle ground with me.
How did I ever get so lucky to have her as my own?

I’m self-deprecating, hunting down my bad qualities. I have to think hard for my skills, talents, good qualities, but in seconds I can rattle off many of my bad traits.
How did I get so lucky to have her as my own?

I can go from social butterfly to lone (…lonely) wolf in seconds. My confidence is found in my friends, but on my own, sometimes I’ll be unwilling to make friends.
How did I get so lucky to have her as my own?

But…my chickadee…my sweet darling…my love…she’s an unending source of joy, love, happiness.
I could talk for hours about her.