Today seems fitting
  to finally admit…

  how ridiculous I've become—

Flights changed, (once, twice? fine, maybe more than that)
  indoor surfboards bought,
              body bending,
             eyes watering,
            legs weakening,
           mind stretching,
          heart fluttering,
         spirit unleashing,
        suitcases bursting…

  poems stacking up like evidence of my madness.

I've cleaned teeth for kisses, (thanks, Doc!)
      relocated entire months—
      planned my life around

  sports schedules, events, nap times…
  every inconvenience turned into joy.

If someone wrote my story,
  I'd swear it was satire,
    a joke stretched thin—
    a perfect April prank.

Except the punchline never came—
  just a beautiful setup,

  with no ending in sight.

Because the biggest fool here…

  is me—

  smiling foolishly,
  planning the next impossible thing,

  still writing,
        waiting,
        counting days,

  still hopelessly,
        happily,
        ridiculously yours.

Because sincerity is the best punchline of all.

And here's the funniest part:

None of *this* is a joke.