“I love you,” he says with that look in his eye. The look that gently releases the walls we’re learnt to shield ourselves behind as we’ve aged, the walls that have grown accustomed to all the pain and disappointment of life. The look that wholeheartedly surrenders itself to love. The look that makes me feel like a silly, schoolgirl twirling in a pretty dress, blushing and grinning from ear-to-ear.
He looks at me with that look that has been hidden in the moments we’ve lost us, hidden in the pain and fights we’ve caused each other over the years. The look that has weathered the years but always comes back, just as shiny but better than new. He looks at me with that look that graced his face in the very beginning when we vowed forever to each other.
Today. He remembers. Today. I remember. We marvel in our love. We know exactly why we are here. Together. Husband and wife. Holding hands and holding hearts.
And then he says, “You're my favorite person,” and my soul smiles. I feel happiness resonate inside the core of my being and my heart rejoices that this is my life and he is my husband. In that moment, I cannot believe how lucky I am.
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