[our one month]

Today marks “one month” with the Wisconsinite, and it’s been an amazing month of continuing to get to know and love even more the most wonderful and beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Every morning, day, and night I thank God for bringing us together, and I’m still so amazed that God has answered a prayer I prayed night and day for oh-so-long. Not in a million years did I expect this to happen, and not in a million more years will I be ungrateful for the love we share and the gift God has given me, a gift with many privileges and just as many responsibilities. My love and affection for her only grows, and though we’ve only seen each other for a total of four days since we’ve officially been together, I still feel like she’s such a huge part of my life, the preeminent human relationship, and if we can “share life” when separated by several hundred miles, I can only begin to imagine how great it will be to share life with her “in person.” Until that day comes, I’m thankful for every phone call, every Skype date, every little text, every postcard laced with her handwriting. Half the time it doesn’t even matter what the letters say; it’s her handwriting, and it’s beautiful.

I love her. I love her. I love her.

I can’t stop saying it. I can’t stop thinking it.

I love her. I love her. I love her.

(I fear I may be developing tourets)

To be honest I agonized over this post. It’s our one month, after all, and I feel like such a milestone (it’s kind of a big deal for me, guys) should be commemorated by the best blog post ever. But I risk just coming off as over-the-top sappy (I can’t help it). Mandy makes me want to sing and dance, to laugh and shout, and I can’t stop telling people about how much I love her, how excited I am to spend the rest of my life with her, how stoked I am to build a family with her. I want to write poems and songs (that’s a dangerous thought), and I want to do all those cliché things lovers do, those things that make the cynics sick: shout my love from the rooftops, send little lovey-dovey videos, carve our initials in trees, show pictures of us to all my friends and the people I work with. I want to laud her with praise and call her “honey boo” and “baby” and “sweetie” and “my love,” because she’s all those things to me. I haven’t been in a lot of relationships, but I’ve been in enough to know that this is different, that we are different; this is a love that is strong, a love that goes far beyond mere sentimentalism, a love cutting to the core. Mandy is the woman I love with a fierce love, an impassioned love, a crazy love. Mandy is the woman who makes me want to die to myself every day for her benefit and well-being, the one who makes me want to sacrifice all that I have here just to be with her. Mandy is the one for me, and she’s always been the one for me. If this weren’t true, how can I explain all that I feel? And I’m not just talking about “pie-in-the-sky” lollipops and unicorns feelings. Those are there, of course: she does quite a thing to this little koala heart of mine, something no one else has ever done. But the feeling goes beyond that; it’s a feeling of determination, a feeling of perseverance, a feeling that goes far beyond “romance”, even far beyond “affection.” It’s love, pure and simple. It’s a love that goes as deep as the marrow in my bones, a love permeating all that I am, a love that is willing to risk everything just to be with her and to love her as she so richly deserves.

And thus I’ve failed at avoiding sappiness.

But that’s okay; I know no other way.

My love for her is bold, not timid, and I won’t let it be tamed.

(I am half beast, after all)