He brings me Dr. Pepper in a bottle, not in the can or from the fountain. Not because he has to or because I’ve asked him to. He does it because he knows it’s my favorite and because I’m his favorite.
He oils my boots so my feet stay warm and dry instead of soaked and cold.
He takes note of a cookbook I mentioned and surprises me with it.
He leaves me little love notes on the inside of the foil he uses to wrap my breakfast burritos – the ones he makes for me.
He pays attention to the little musings of my heart and helps make them my reality.
These things might sound little or seem insignificant to some, but to me they’re huge. They are grand gestures disguised as inexpensive things.
He doesn’t do any of it for the credit or the praise. And he does it all without warning and without expectation of anything in return. He does it because he knows me, sometimes better than I know myself, and he wants me to feel loved. He does it because he loves me.