The year before I met you was cold and dark. I felt lost like there was nobody in the world that could possibly understand me. High school had always been a mess, I do not know why I expected my senior year to be any better, but I set my hopes high and I fell, hard.

I discovered beer, and found my rebellious self. I often went out late with friends, fishing, drinking on summer nights, causing a little bit of mayhem, for me anyway. Before I was a senior, I never really had the urge to rebel. I had sports and work to focus on; I had enough real friends that filled in what open time I had. Senior year I stopped playing sports, I made friends that I fell in love with. Those friends were the same friends that would betray me, that would introduce me to liqueur that would break my heart.

When you first came home I was shattered and frail. I ate very little and stayed out very late. Stress had taken its toll and I was tired. I had not seen you in a while and at first it was weird to see you again, but eventually, we fell into a natural friendship. You took me out for dinner, a simple, yet sweet gesture. You asked what my favorite thing to eat was and my inner child explained that it was chicken fingers and fries, but that I could never manage to eat it. You ordered for me and sat there and waited until I’d finished the first full meal I’d eaten in a month. You walked me to your car and opened the door while I climbed in. You brought games, movies, cookie dough ice cream, and other snacks the rest of the time you were on leave. I felt less afraid, less like I needed to be someone I am not, you made me truly happy.

Two years we spent dating through all of my schooling and your deployments. We talked every night into the early hours of the morning, and laughed all day. We visited one another when we could and fulfilled many adventures. We travelled together, and when we were apart. We experienced the world together, whether we were physically together or simply sharing photos. We stayed happy and in love.

It was not always a walk in the park. In fact we often fought over things big and small. We hit a breaking point more than once, but we always fought through, finding the light at the end of the tunnel. We fought for the right to be as happy as we had been, to not let the distance get in the way.

Almost three years later we rode across the country, a beautiful two week trip in your first car. Although it was not in the best condition, it brought us home. It brought you to me permanently. No more deployments, no more long nights waiting to hear from you, no more worrying about you overseas, no more distance. We walked Hollywood Boulevard, climbed through the Grand Canyon, drank in Los Vegas, zip lined in Kentucky, drove golf carts and played with alpacas in Pennsylvania, and waltzed through D.C., before making it to Boston, where we would stay.

Fast forward a year and we are living in our first place with our baby kitten. We have built furniture, decorated, and made this place a home. We work long and hard hours, but still manage to find adventures and find joy in one another. Whether they are spent with Netflix, the kitten, and too many snacks, our out on the town, our nights together are always the best nights.

What I am trying to say is thank you. Thank you for teaching me how to love again. Thank you, for teaching me, not only how to love you, but how to love myself. I have never been more confident in my abilities and self-worth. I will never forget the first dinner we had together after graduation and how that lead us to where we are today. I will be forever grateful for the little things you do, like bringing flowers or dark chocolate home, or cleaning the kitten litter while I am at work, doing the dishes or the endless back messages after I’ve been on my feet all day. I am grateful for your abilities to deal with my mood swings, both my worst self and my best. I love that you accept both. You have truly made me happy and I could never thank you enough, but it is so gratifying that at the end of the day, I get to call you my best friend.