Reasons

He puts on Supertramp from time to time. Yeah, that Supertramp.

His face is covered in battle scars. "From the time I got stabbed with a pair of scissors."

He makes me want to live out that Corinne Bailey Rae music video.

He says things like, "Wake me up in seven minutes." Like I'm going to know when that is.

He has the eyebrows of a Russian tsar.

His teeth are fake, and he points this out.

He watches Raiders of the Lost Ark with me and doesn't care when I shout "WHAT."

He bought my favorite Hot Topic employee a cup of coffee just because he was tired.

He asks questions, answers them, and asks again. "Do I have a dollar? Yeah. Wait... do I? Yes."

He puts his hand on my knee when we go driving.

He's coming to our family's Thanksgiving.

He has a scar on his neck from getting shot bare with a paintball.

He lets me talk about this blog as if it were an acceptable means of self-expression.

He laughs loud and hard.

He's going deaf just like Beethoven did, but faster.

He talks like Skwisgaar Skwigelf when he says "I love you."

He can frustrate me.

He can depress me.

But he makes me smile, and he makes me laugh, and he makes me want to wake up to those thick eyebrows and those porcelain teeth and his scars upon scars, and it gives me hope for the future.