I'm in love with a married man.

It's true.  I am. 
The good news is... his wife (me) approves.
It took me a few years to learn to accept roses, small gestures, large gestures, all gestures graciously.  
He thinks of me.

But my husband... does all of those things for me that the love songs mention. 
He makes me a better person.

We are as much alike as we are different.
I'm the outgoing, bubbly one.  He's more quiet and dry humored.
We are a balance.  

He is my best friend.   We hunt, fish, talk and hang out. 
When things are wrong or right in my world, he is my first (& only) phone call.

He's a man.  An alpha male.   He lifts heavy things.  I find this hot.

But the man is a romantic. 
He's already planned out our anniversary weekend.
(It will include a beautiful treehouse in the woods, a heart shaped hot tub and next to a lake to fish and near a historic town to photograph)   He knows me.

Am I bragging?  Yep.  Darn Skippy.  
Because, I feel in life... you're lucky if you find this match.  This love.  This kind of connection with another person.   He's my best friend.  

                 So... truth be told.  I am in love with a married man.  Mine.

Mushy post, eh?   I know.  But I this is the only way to do it without shouting from a roof top.  (I'm clumsy, we all know I'd fall off the roof and then said romantic alpha male would have to take me to the ER to tend to my wounds)