Thursday, June 16, 2011

5 days

Andrew,

By this time next week we will be married and exploring Hawaii together. My intentions of telling you 20 something reasons why I love you failed. Not because I couldn't find 20 something reasons, but because I was busy enjoying all the reasons while we were together the past week and a half in our new little house without internet.

Here I am though, 5 days away from becoming yours forever, trying to find the words to articulate all of the feelings I am having right now. To tell you the truth, it is just not possible. That could be because I just spent 8 solid hours studying for the biggest test of my life, or more likely because I am deeply in love with you and my brain cannot do what my heart feels justice.

The searching part of my life is over. I have found everything that I want in a companion in you. There are no other guys I need to meet because I have found the only one I will ever need. I have everything that I could ever want in a husband, partner for life, father to my babies, grandfather to my grandbabies, and most of all best friend. We will be with each other through everything and anything life can throw at us, and be together even at the end of life.

This is why I am marrying you in 5 days.
I will spend the rest of my life trying to fill all of the roles and supply all of the needs that you have for a wife, and I pray that I will do it with the grace, beauty, and love that you have shown me.

I love you. To the moon and stars and galaxies and back a trillion times.

Allye

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it our even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Shakespeare, Sonnet 116