Actions speak louder than words

I got hung up on words last week. Oh, no, not saying them. We all know I have no problem finding words to spout off with. No, I got hung up on my need want to hear those three magical words from B.

Yes, it was selfish on my part. Thank god I threw my little temper tantrum with M instead of voicing all of this to Batman.

When I got done pouting about the fact that he's just not there yet, and the words I want to hear him say won't be said for a while just yet. I sat down and realized something even better.

He may not be able to say those three words to me just yet (for a lot of reasons, all of which I know and understand) but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel those feelings. You might ask (or maybe not, but I did) If he feels it why won't he say it? The truth is? He does say it, just not with words.

He does so many things for me that show me, tell me, how he feels, if I would just shut up long enough to hear it.
Just this morning, at 7:00 he called me. I, of course, asked him "What's wrong?"
Nothing's wrong why would something be wrong?
Because you don't call me in the morning usually.
Well, not in a while, but I wanted to call to see how your morning's going.
And he stayed on the phone with me listening to me get the girls out the door, get gas, drop the girls off at school, and drive to work. He shared a good 45 minutes of my morning with me.

He calls me every night after work, on his way home, just to share his day with me. He chats with me on Yahoo during the day, if we both have time. He calls me every night before we go to sleep to tell me Sweet Dreams. He calls me several times on my drive to his house, to see where I am, and to tell me Please be careful.

In Florida, he got up every morning, and drove to the gas station near by to get us both huge cups of coffee, and gave me time to get in the shower and get started on my morning routine (which is so much longer and extensive than his).

He understood one afternoon, that my hair had gotten mussed and out of sorts when we were taking a nap (really we did take a nap) and he waited patiently, without bitching at all, while I took another shower and redid my hair and make up from the very beginning again (that's an hour wait time folks...seriously). But he knew I would be less than comfortable, (I would be miserable) if I went out to dinner with him that night, looking less than great.

He knew I hated my hair for most of my life, so he stepped up and took care of the problem. I have loved my hair every day since then. (And I have said Thank you to him every week since then too).

He got his hair cut last week, and the place that did his hair, also did mani's and pedi's and facials, and massages, and he told me, 'If you're good, I'll spring for a day here for you, with the works.' and I know that he will do it.

He made me tell him about my trip to Daytona last year, especially all the bad parts, so that he could do things completely different and make this year's trip so much better for me. (And he did)

He made arrangements for me to have a shopping buddy one day, he has found the latest uber-awesome photo-editing software for me, he is saving me a ton of $$ by trying to fix my PC for me...seriously, I could go on and on about all the things he's done for me. The bottom line is he may not use words to say I love you, he finds other ways. And if I would just shut up and be quiet, I could (and do) hear them. Every. Single. Day.