He's my love story. He's my favorite book that I've read a million times and each time it's like the first time all over. With each page, I get more excited, I cry at the same places, I laugh and I hate him. The thing is, I haven't finished the book yet. I'm only on the first chapter and this book is really good. I mean so good that it can make me put Harry Potter down. I found my magic kingdom. I found my spells and charms. I found my eternity in one person. Something I never thought I'd be able to find outside of black and white pages inside a safe shell protecting it. I found my storybook ending. As I continue reading this book, it gets more exciting. I get to know both of the characters more with each paragraph. I was never really one for love stories. They annoyed me. This one, though. This one is a million times different. It's beautiful and frustrating and it doesn't make sense most of the time. It's my story. My life. My love.
He's my future and I'm his. He's the best friend I could ever ask for and he means more to me than I ever thought anyone in this world could. He's my blessing, my proof that my God does give us a chance to breathe. He's the world to me. He's my husband.
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