All the great love stories they always have these great beginnings and these amazingly happy endings. Ours was not like that. I didn't jump on the tracks to save his brother; he didn't chase me down in a crowded parking lot because I left my parking pass on a counter. We weren't those best friends that just looked across the room and suddenly knew. There was no fairy godmother or a carriage made from a pumpkin. No wicked witch poisoned my apple and he never climbed up my hair to free me from a tower prison.
Most people would lie when someone asked how they met their husband if they had the story we had. They would say we just knew one day. We just knew. But, we didn't know. We had no clue what the hell was going on even though we liked to tell ourselves that we did. We didn't have a fairy tale beginning. It was more comparable to a plot line on Dallas or Young and the Restless. In fact when things got rough he used to sit down next to me, lean in close, and with a laugh whisper "Like sands through an hour glass, these are the days of our life". He was such a goof ball. Maybe that is why I didn't believe him when he told me he was going to write a book about our great love story. Yet, here it is. Hand written with all the crap and all the glory. Damn I love that man with all his crap and all his glory. Sometimes I wonder if he knows that, but this … this proves it.
You want to know the truth about love. Real love is not pretty, it doesn't come wrapped in a pretty bow. You don't have to be opposites to attract. It doesn't have to be perfect and in the words of the only person I have ever loved with my whole heart … it just has to be ours.
These pages…these words… well their not pretty, but they make up a story. More importantly they make up our story. Our imperfect mess of a story. But, it doesn't have to be perfect … it just has to be ours.