I like when we are out to lunch and you randomly say something like, “So, who do you want to cater the wedding?" And I ask you what wedding? And you give me this look and I realize you mean our wedding, some day in the near future, as if it is so obvious you have chosen me. But the thing is, it’s still so hard to believe sometimes. I’m mostly there, though. Usually it’s just when I catch you staring at me that the weight of your love hits me all over again. Or when you ask me if I am real, because I remind you of the girl from Enchanted, like I walked right out of a fairy tale. You make me blush a special kind of pink in my cheeks that no one else has ever seen. Just to be sure, I will still ask you what it is you see in me, why you insist upon how much you are in love with me. See, the funny thing is before you I always asked boys this question because their typical answers provided some kind of temporary satisfaction to help me feel good about myself. But the reason I ask you is completely different. Because your answer is full of promise and excitement, like when you can get someone to start talking about what they are passionate for and they get so into every detail and lose themselves in the process, trailing off on so many different points they want to get across, trying to get a life’s worth of feelings into an acceptable response. And for once I finally love listening more than talking. Maybe that’s because when I take the time to shut my mouth and watch you smile, I can finally understand what people mean when they say eyes are the windows to the soul. Yours are like an open book in a language foreign to everyone else but me. And with every chapter I read about the pain you have dealt with, I can’t help but see how the jagged edges of your broken heart are somehow a perfect reflection of my own. I know people will say you don’t need another person to complete you, you must be whole by yourself. But I have never seen a whole person in my entire life, and that is the absolute truth. I have never seen a person lucky enough to have been spared one, a few, or all of the setbacks this harsh world has to offer. I will challenge anyone until the day I die to tell me otherwise. To show me someone untouched by loss, someone who has never experienced the pain of an aching heart. We all start out whole, perfect, complete… until the people we meet, the ones we love, the ones we trusted, leave marks and scuffs and tears on our souls that are impossible to fix alone. But one day, one day you will meet someone with identical scars. Someone that makes you understand what it means to be imperfectly perfect. Someone who shows you that even after all the awful things you have suffered through, even though you have lost some of your bits and pieces along the way, together you can both realize what it means to be complete again.