The First Time He Said "I love you"

I was thinking this morning about the very first time your father told me that he loved  me.  How special and profound of a moment that was in our lives.  I'm sure that this will be a story I tell you over and over until you're sick of it - but just in case something was to happen to me, I wanted you to know it.

We were laying in bed in our old apartment (well it was my apartment... Your father just kept staying the night more and more and showing up with stuff until I asked if he wanted to start paying rent).  I was laying with my head on his chest and his left arm around my body.  We were supposed to be trying to fall asleep, but we'd rather spend the time talking to each other.  Anyways, we were at a break in the conversation and we were both quiet.  I assumed he was getting ready to fall asleep.  Until I could hear his heart start to race and his breathing deepen.  I could tell he was stressed and felt like he was about to say something important (either an 'I love you' or 'let's break up'). After some more silence, your father quietly stated "I love you". ::heart melt:: I smiled (which he couldn't see since it was dark, and told him that I loved him. It was a feeling that I too knew to be true, but hasn't vervalized yet. With a deep sigh of relief from your father, he then repeated "I love you,  I love you, I love you, I love you..." and gave me a squeeze. It just felt so good to finally get out that it deemed repeating. 

So, I love you... I love you... I love you... I love you.

And Happy First Saint Patricks day!