Eustathia (yoos-tay’-thi-a): Promising constancy in purpose and affection.

I love you as much as I love Canada. Like maple syrup you sweeten up my life. You let me push you around without complaining. You’re as cute as a baby beaver. You smell like hot poutine. I adore your goose down overhauls and your well-insulated snow boots. Your lips are the color of unripe Saskatoon berries begging to be kissed. Your collection of Ann Murray CDs makes me lose all control, and your giant autographed portrait of Justin Bieber makes me want to get down on my knees and thank God that you’ve come into my life.

I love you and I always will. Without you, I’d just be another failure from New York, pining at Niagara Falls, looking at the colored lights and whining into the wind.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (

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