Love messages for your wife: 30 texts

Coffee's ready. You can stay in bed another five minutes.

Thought of you between two things. Nothing urgent. Just you.

The house is quieter when you're out. Too quiet.

Did you eat, or are we pretending leftovers count as dinner?

I'm on my way. If you're on the couch, save me a spot.

Thanks for today. Even the boring part. Especially the boring part.

I picked you years ago. I'd pick you again tomorrow morning.

We have a life now. Keys, habits, an us. I'm keeping it.

I don't love you like the first day. I love you with everything we've been through since.

You're still the person I want to get old with, even on a Tuesday with nothing on.

If we started over, I'd take the same road. Faster, maybe. Same road.

The years didn't wear this out. They made it clearer.

You don't have to carry all of it. I'll take half, even when I say it badly.

I'm proud of you. Not for a big win. For the way you hold our days together.

If the day was hard, say so. We don't need a speech.

You're home to me, even when we're in two different rooms.

I still choose you. Not out of habit. Because it's you.

Come here. The rest can wait twenty minutes.

We don't have to fix it tonight. I'm here. That's already something.

I know you're tired. I'll handle the rest. You breathe.

We talked too fast earlier. I love you anyway. Especially now.

Put the phone down. I'll make tea, or I'll sit next to you and be quiet. You pick.

Ordinary days count too. I'm spending this one with you.

Nothing to prove tonight. Just us. The dishes can wait.

I took your side of the bed again. Call it love, or just claiming the spot.

You're right. I'll write it down so I can say it again in three years.

Our life is you knowing where things are, and me looking anyway.

I love you even when you change the plan at the last minute. Especially then.

If we count the coffees I've brought you, we're square on the romance.

Tenderness: fine. Dishes: under discussion. I'll do the dishes.