A rose by any other name would make Valentines Day confusing...

"But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya guts and the spit in ya eye
Cause I'm the son-of-a-bitch that named you "Sue.'"
I'm beginning to run into a small problem when It comes to writing this blog.

While I choose to air my life and dirty laundry for anyone to read for the sake of a healthy dose of humour, the man that I share my life with does not in-fact, want me to share HIS life, with the world.

Fair enough.

I do not post his photo on Facebook, I even patrol for him and ask people who have posted his picture to take them down.

(On a side note, if you ever feel like finding out who your true friends are, ask them to take a photo off their profile.

It's insane how many people choose to keep that embarrassing/ugly/unflattering/ job endangering photo up over respecting your privacy/general sense of decency)

I don't post our address, home phone number (well if we had one I wouldn't), or where we keep the spare keys.

I do not even add his name and a million hearts in my status when I'm feeling extra gooey.

(Okay, I know most of you figure that I never feel gooey anyway... so that one I don't get credit for...)

And with the exception of this one right here, my blogs never actually focus on him.

But going back to the "share my life with" I can't help but have him as a re-occurring character in most of my stories.

And in trying to respect his privacy I have not ever posted his name.

This gets increasingly difficult.

I do not like to call him "My Husband", I let other people call him that, because I get tired of correcting them and the conversation that ensues said correction, but I don't actually call him Husband.

Mostly out of respect for all the people out there who have gone through the whole wedding thing, I get it, they put in the work, they should get a little credit.

But also, I don't want to confuse him, if he starts hearing me use that term he may think I want a ring and then we have the opening scene to "The Strangers" all over again... and we all know that movie didn't end well.

But speaking of credit, I don't like to call him "My Boyfriend". We are not Seniors in high school. I live with the man, we share bills and a bed, I plan on being the mother of his kids.

The term boyfriend feels like one step up from "that guy I'm seeing" and I feel in the past few years, we've managed to take things farther than that one step.

So that's easy... I just start calling him "My Partner". And everyone starts to envision Rosie O'Donnell with some camping gear and a gun.

( On another side note, go ahead and google Rosie, it's been awhile, say 1996, since I've seen her... wow)

Why don't I just call him "The man I love and share my life and future with" well....quite frankly that's a hell of a lot to type, and I try to keep your interest in these little posts. I think if I get that politically correct I not only loose my edge, but also my audience.

So I need to stick him with a nickname. Something like "Better Half".... only I have to much pride to admit that much defeat.

"Ball and Chain" doesn't fit either, as he has never tried to tie me down, nor do I consider him a drag (unless we were at a Basketball game, then I will admit, he is a pessimist and a complete downer, but save our differing cheering styles for another time).

Asking him for help doesn't do me any good... I just did, and gave him "ball and chain" and "better half" and asked him for examples like that... he said "what's wrong with those ones?"

(In his defence this post is still a work in progress and hasn't been published yet.)

I try to recall other nicknames I had for guys I wanted to remain anonymous (some for their sake, some for mine).... Rat Teeth, Peru, Touch Feet, Hairy Guy, Your-Not-Done-Yet.....Turns out, looking back on them I'm not very good ( or nice) when it comes to nicknames.

But I guess typically, you need to describe someone, and I will describe him as strong. Physically, (as in his arms are the size of my thighs) and mentally (he does share his life with me, that takes true strength).

Not to mention emotionally, he seems to be the one holding it together while I sometimes have a nervous breakdown over folding laundry.

So While I won't concede to him being "better" per say, I will admit to him being the stronger one in our fully-committed-but-not-ceremoniously-sanctified relationship.

Therefor, from this point of my blog on, he shall be referred as my "Stronger Half"... or more likely just SH... as again, I get a little lazy typing things out.

Feel free to imagine someone putting their fingers to their lips with the universal sign for "Be Quiet" every time I mention him, as I know that is what I will picture every time I type it.