Thank you for never being bothered by my love letters to other people, both fictional and not so fictional (though I know this is in large part because you do not actually read my blog). My love for all of these other people in no way interferes with my love for you. At least it hasn’t yet. If Sheldon Cooper or Gilbert Blythe somehow come to life, or Felicia Day comes a knockin’ we may have to revisit this topic. Though I would probably still choose you over George Stroumboulopoulos. Probably.
I know I must really like you since I still want to be around you even though you don’t read comics, watch Sci-Fi, particularly like dinosaurs, or get any of my Harry Potter jokes (yet). Still, you play board games and send me punny jokes when I am sad which is pretty great.
(What do you call a T-Rex’s bruise? A Dino-sore!)
When you Fed-Ex’d me socks from Winnipeg for Valentines Day I was smitten. From the moment you agreed to see “Ghost Rider 2” in theatres with me my heart has been yours. And it really is marvelous that after all this time you are still willing to sit through my “what they did wrong” rants at the end of movies. (I know you’re only half listening, but the fact that you pretend to listen is enough.) It’s been a delightful 2 ½ years.
Anyways, what I am trying to say is that I love you a-lottle. (It’s like a little, but a lot.) Thanks for being so cool.
And though I know you hate it, the fact that I have promoted you to “STER Status” really is the highest sign of affection I can give you. Just ask my sister.