I pity him.

Because I know he loves me.
I know he'd do anything for me.
I know he'd die for me.
I love him, more than I have ever loved anything. I put so much energy into him, and I sometimes get love, sometimes anger, sometimes apathy, and sometimes bitter fucking disappointment.
I don't think he'll ever understands, how when we get drunk and I tell him I want to marry him, that I'm serious.

Drunk minds speak sober hearts!

Oh well.