I've been thinking about my love lately.
My love, my love.
Since I was a little girl I wanted to find true love.
Someone "perfect" who would adore me and protect me.
In college I longed for real love.
Someone who didn't play games, who could put up with my "baggage".
Our love story didn't begin as a romance, but rather a friendship.
Years later I fell in love with him.
Twenty one years old and I fell hard.
I was struck by two realizations.
1) None of my ideas about love were true. They seemed small. This love was bigger than I could imagine.
2) I couldn't imagine my life without him.
Both these realizations scared me. I think that fear propelled me forward.
Over time I learned how to love, really love. To forgive. To embrace. To respect. To communicate.
Growing up. Growing together.
Thirty five now and those two realizations hold true today.
I have no idea where this big love will take us, but I can't imagine our lives without each other.
Isn't that what they mean by happily ever after?
