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And here we are. 20 years. I’m writing this and I can’t believe it’s true. 20 years. How is it you love me still? How am I so lucky? What did I do to find you, earn your trust, and have you remain in my life? In my heart I know the answers and it makes me more breathless and in awe.

I see my flaws every day, and I assume other people can see them as well. I assume that’s all they see. But you see them and embrace me as a whole. You see beyond to a place I want to get to one day. You’re there waiting for me, today, tomorrow, in the haze of the future. 

I love you for it. I love you that you are here and there. It’s what love is, a promise based on potential and trust. It’s the same today as it was 20 years ago as of they were both the same point in time, looping back on itself until today was pre-ordained because it took place 20 years ago already.

I love you. I love us. And I strive to be that person you see me as now and then, when the gulf of time was seemingly collapsed by two words said at a rose arch two decades back on a Saturday in the month of June.

I strive to be always worthy of you. It’s my constant gift to you, even when I have nothing else to offer. I love you.