My words are already trying to escape me and I'm not even anywhere near started. Fairly reminiscent of a year ago. Heh.
One year and three months ago, I stumbled upon what I didn't realize at the time was going to be the best thing to ever happen to me. Rather, he stumbled into me. I'll never forget the electricity as soon as we locked eyes for the first time. Up to that point, I never believed in love at first sight. I never cared much for love to begin with, because it had always been such shit. But I knew as soon as I saw him that I wasn't just infatuated. I was in love. Words can't describe the way it felt to hold him in my arms that night, even if the circumstances weren't ideal.
The idea of getting to be so close to him, getting to comfort him, was incredible. Never in my life was I expecting that reckless, obnoxious, perfect blue-eyed angel to just fall into my lap. He was my saving grace. And, as it turned out, I was his.
Little did I know at that point, three months later, he would become my husband. I don't think either of us really remember how the proposal happened. I'm not sure if it ever formally happened. It was more him approaching me and telling me flat out, "Hey, buddy. You're gonna marry me. I hope you're okay with that." Truthfully, I wouldn't have it any other way. The little quirks are what make us what we are.
One year ago today, I married Zarra Cambridge, the love of my life. My other and better half. The last year has been an emotional roller coaster with more ups and downs than I could count on a crowd's hands. There have been tears, laughter, love, and fights, and I wouldn't trade any of it for the world. No matter what shit we get into, he's still my prince, and he always will be. I've never loved someone so much in my entire twenty-three years of life. If I lost him, I'd be lost. Hopelessly. So, to a year of happiness, a year of tears, a year of love, and a year of marriage:
Happy anniversary, baby. I love you so fucking much.