I can remember being young and my cousin telling me, “Missy, you’re so mean to boys.”

“…And?” was my response.

It’s not so much that I hated guys, I just enjoyed being independent and had a take no shit attitude. I remember Kevin finding this out. It didn’t take him long. In fact, I remember the very moment he looked at me like… Oh, you’re different.

Our first date.

He was supposed to take me to dinner. For those that know this idiot, he was hours late. Imagine that. Hours. Late. Well, I didn’t know the comedy show that is Kevin’s punctuality and I didn’t have time for that. I told him don’t bother. I changed into workout clothes and was headed to the gym.

He showed up at my apartment anyway with a pack of blue moon and an apology. He looked at me so differently than he had a week before when he met me. There was true desperation in his eyes. Our first date was us sitting on my porch drinking beer and it was the best first date I ever had.

He spent the entire time getting to know me. I mean really wanting to know my soul. I still held my guard up for the entire date, but he didn’t quit. He was honest and real. He may have been late, but the man showed up.

I don’t need a man to tell me I am beautiful to feel beautiful. I don’t need a man to tell me I am valuable to know I have value.

What I need in a man is his desire to fight for me. His will to show up. He did that. Every day. Late, mind you, but he did it. Yes, he told me how beautiful I looked and nothing grasped my heart more. But he also carried me out of the hospital after I had to have a tumor removed. He also searched all over New Orleans for my favorite doughnut when the shop by his house was out. He took care of my dog like he was his own. He was a big brother to my brother and a son to my family.

All of this he did to fight for me and I’ll love him for it every day.

Till next time.