When people ask me why I don’t like “Anaconda” and/or popular music in general, I will show them this

Hey so um do you even know how incredibly attractive your face looks when you’re asleep? Have I told you what a sensation it is that split second my fingers run along your soft, warm skin again… finally. Even a few hours away from you feels like ages, and yes baby yes even after all this time nothing’s changed except maybe that you keep making me fall in love with you more and more every day. Are you even real? Sometimes it feels like it’s too good to be true, but then I remember everything we both have been through to get to where we are now. Sometimes I can’t believe I actually found you after all of my sufferings, but here I am snuggled under our sheets comforted by the scent of the shirt that you were napping in just a few short hours ago. Hey… did I ever tell you that to me, you smell like home?

It finally happened last night.

There is this feeling, and it’s a bit hard to understand until you have experienced it yourself, but it is truly wonderful. See, when you first move out on your own, it takes a while before you get used to thinking of that new place you live in as your “home.” In the beginning, anytime you think of “home” the first thing that pops into your head will be your parent’s place, or where ever you were living previously. But then, about a month or so after moving, you are driving back from a long shift at work and suddenly it happens. You turn up the music, you get lost in it going down the highway, and your mind wanders until you begin to think of home and it’s like the only thing I can do is start smiling like an idiot cause all I see in my mind is walking through the door and straight into your arms and you kissing me gently, telling me you missed me even though I just woke up next to you this morning. And I’m thinking about how nothing gets to me as much anymore or stresses me out because no matter what at the end of every day I’m coming home to his love and puppy cuddles from our sweet baby boy in this cozy safe haven away from all the troubles of the outside world. I promise you, there is no greater happiness in life than feeling completely free and independent and sharing that experience with someone you are so deeply in love with.

I like when we are out to lunch and you randomly say something like, “So, who do you want to cater the wedding?” And I ask you what wedding? And you give me this look and I realize you mean our wedding, some day in the near future, as if it is so obvious you have chosen me. But the thing is, it’s still so hard to believe sometimes. I’m mostly there, though. Usually it’s just when I catch you staring at me that the weight of your love hits me all over again. Or when you ask me if I am real, because I remind you of the girl from Enchanted, like I walked right out of a fairy tale. You make me blush a special kind of pink in my cheeks that no one else has ever seen. Just to be sure, I will still ask you what it is you see in me, why you insist upon how much you are in love with me. See, the funny thing is before you I always asked boys this question because their typical answers provided some kind of temporary satisfaction to help me feel good about myself. But the reason I ask you is completely different. Because your answer is full of promise and excitement, like when you can get someone to start talking about what they are passionate for and they get so into every detail and lose themselves in the process, trailing off on so many different points they want to get across, trying to get a life’s worth of feelings into an acceptable response. And for once I finally love listening more than talking. Maybe that’s because when I take the time to shut my mouth and watch you smile, I can finally understand what people mean when they say eyes are the windows to the soul. Yours are like an open book in a language foreign to everyone else but me. And with every chapter I read about the pain you have dealt with, I can’t help but see how the jagged edges of your broken heart are somehow a perfect reflection of my own. I know people will say you don’t need another person to complete you, you must be whole by yourself. But I have never seen a whole person in my entire life, and that is the absolute truth. I have never seen a person lucky enough to have been spared one, a few, or all of the setbacks this harsh world has to offer. I will challenge anyone until the day I die to tell me otherwise. To show me someone untouched by loss, someone who has never experienced the pain of an aching heart. We all start out whole, perfect, complete… until the people we meet, the ones we love, the ones we trusted, leave marks and scuffs and tears on our souls that are impossible to fix alone. But one day, one day you will meet someone with identical scars. Someone that makes you understand what it means to be imperfectly perfect. Someone who shows you that even after all the awful things you have suffered through, even though you have lost some of your bits and pieces along the way, together you can both realize what it means to be complete again.


Check out this shit I made today because I fucking love baking and ice cream cone cupcakes are like my signature specialty but this time I did fudge marble cake with a kitkat bar in each one and then I put some of those chocolate and peanut butter chips in the batter and then after they cooled down I topped it off with super whipped milk chocolate frosting and threw on an unnecessarily large amount of those chocolate and peanut butter chips again just because I want to put you into a fucking coma

My sister, Jami, sees her husband for the first time in 9 months after his first deployment. His homecoming was at a station in Alaska and she saved up enough money to fly up from her home in Indiana to surprise him, he had absolutely no idea that she would be there waiting.

My older sister, her husband, and their four year old son. She is such an inspiration to me. She had her baby at 18, missed two months of her senior year, and still graduated with all honors and a perfect GPA. She married her high school sweetheart in October 2010, and he was deployed to Afghanistan shortly after. At just 22 years of age my sister is a loving mother, an excellent student studying to become a nurse, and a devoted wife to her husband who is still actively in the military.