Partnership? Partnership.

My husband is a period.  I am a question mark.

My husband is vacuum lines and streak free windows.  I am candy wrappers stuffed into couch cushions and socks lost under the bed covers.  

He is clean laundry, unfolded.  
I am clean laundry folded but un-put-away.

He is car keys hanging on the designated hook; bills filed neatly and paid on time.  I am the contents of my purse spilled over the kitchen counter, seeking the keys four minutes before I have to leave.  I am cash stuffed into pants pockets and forgotten until the next wearing.

He is things "put away" on shelves that nobody can reach; tater tots, served proudly as hor dourves.  I am organizational bins and baskets, clearly labeled, and sensibly located; party bowls on theme, appetizers galore.

He is present at all events with not a photo to show for it and fingers too big to fashion a two year-old ponytail.  I am candid photographs of any and all significant moments uploaded in a timely manner; patiently styled braids in Rapunzel Barbie's hair.

He is 2 miles run on speed 7, I am 6 miles at speed 4.5. 

When I first saw him I knew.  A feeling so sure that it was unsettling.  I knew I would never again be the same.  A change in the gravitational pull of my world.  A shift, as something new became the center of my life. I have had this feeling a few times since that day, three times to be exact. 

There are some things that I don't question.  I just take for granted that they are as they were intended to be.  We are one of those things.

My husband is a declaration.  I am a question.
But together are an exclamation.