Here’s to men.

I’ve been trying this happiness project, as you know. It hasn’t been that long, but step one is trying to be more optimistic about things. Looking at the glass as half full, if you will, not dwelling on all the things making it half empty.

So I’m going to try something here. There’s nothing that has caused me more grief in the past few years than men, and if I can look at the bright side of men, maybe I can look at the bright side of everything else in the world. Because let’s be honest here, guys. Most of you? You’re pretty awful. You lie and cheat and treat girls like shit. You have short attention spans and quick tempers. You can’t multitask, and you definitely can’t clean the bathroom.

But there are things – precious few things – that are wonderful about men. And while they are often unfortunately overshadowed by all of the terrible things they do, they’re there nonetheless. Lying dormant, waiting for someone to bring them out.

So here’s to those men, and everything I love about them.

Here’s to them killing bugs and lifting things and putting things together. Sure, I’m capable of doing all of those things on my own. But it’s much more enjoyable to sit back with a glass of wine and watch them do it instead.

Here’s to them playing sports – to creating magical moments like this and this and these. Here’s to them watching sports – grown men being brought to tears, screaming and jumping and hugging, all over a game.

Here’s to the warmth of a body in bed next to mine, and fingers that run through my hair as I drift off to sleep.

Here’s to tee-shirts and jeans that fit just right. Here’s to well-tailored suits. Here’s to leather jackets.

Here’s to them acting like kids in the best way possible. Throwing a frisbee on the beach, racing a friend down the street, wrestling with a dog.

Here’s to hugs. Bigger, stronger arms wrapped around me – soothing me, protecting me, making the world around me disappear.

Here’s to the big, soft, lived in sweatshirt you have to beg him to borrow, and that he’ll have to beg you to return. Here’s to that one faded, dirty baseball cap he won’t ever let you throw out.

Here’s to the secret moments you catch him in – humming along to a Justin Beiber song or watching Gossip Girl without you – that he’ll deny to the death with a smirk.

Here’s to smiles that make you melt and crystal clear blue eyes. Here’s to God for creating men that look like this and this and this and this and this and this. And here’s to the men who don’t and are just as sexy in your eyes.

Here’s to dads and brothers and grandfathers. Here’s to friends who will fix your plumbing. Here’s to friends’ boysfriends who take you under their wing when your own boyfriend has devastated you. Here’s to not always getting it right and rarely knowing what to say, but to not letting that stop them from trying.

Here’s to the good guys – I know you’re out there, despite every attempt you make to convince me otherwise.

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