Five years ago.
My, that's hard to believe.
We met in 2001.
I was fifteen. He was sixteen.
We spent last night sifting through converse boxes filled with ticket stubs, dried roses, yellowed love notes and chocolate wrappers. We reminisced about beach rendezvous', AWANA camps, old friends and mis-matched shoe laces. Ten years have come and gone since Mr. California strutted into Beach Baptist Church making all the little church girls swoon. We fell hard and survived the fall.
July 15th, 2006, the heaven's opened, the beach closed and a ring appeared.
"Marry me" was mentioned, tears were shed and phone calls were made.
Five months later, dreams became a reality as groomsmen laced up their coordinating converse sneakers. Bridesmaids shared eye shadow, wolfed down leftover pizza and hurried to the church just in time to snap a few pictures. We joked in between shots and commented on how beautiful everyone looked.
The time finally came as Dad held back tears walking his baby girl down the rose lined isle. Music played, vows were repeated, things went wrong and we smooched our way into eternal matrimony.
It was bliss.
He's the peanut butter to my jelly, the rainbow to my sky; I love him more than a fat kid loves cake.
No matter what: he's my better half. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
We've made it through the best and worst of times.
Happy 5 years to my best friend and beloved.
I love you more than yesterday.
I love you more than life.