Perfect love was that kind of love that made no sense but made everything else make sense somehow. It was raw and unscripted, turbulent and slightly unpredictable.
You are my love of loves, my dream of dreams, my hope of hopes...and I would take the journey all over again because it led me to you, because it’s our story–the story of us.
More than every once in awhile. More than most dreams. More than just my heart. More than anything. More than you know. And more than I can say, I’ve loved you more every passing day.