When we first met, I didn't think much of it. I have never spent much time paying attention to boys. Don't get me wrong, I had my fair share of short-lived, high school "relationships," but by the time my junior year rolled around, I was disinterested in the stop and go nature of the dating going on in the lives of my friends, simply because it all seemed so pointless and exhausting. Not to mention the way I hated all things cheesy or romantic. By the time you came into my life, I was stuck in a subconscious habit of writing off anyone I could potentially be interested in, not only because of all of those reasons, but also because it was my way to avoid getting hurt. The way I saw it, my life was busy enough without a boyfriend; I had everything I needed or wanted within my friends and family. Looking back on it now, it seems crazy that I didn't see that I was missing out on one big thing: love. It took me a good three years to realize the opportunity I was missing out on with you, but once I did, I knew I couldn't let it slip away.

Fast forward five or six months, and I'm the happiest I've ever been. Suddenly all those cheesy things don't seem so ridiculous anymore. The best part of my day is hearing about yours. Just seeing your face makes even the worst days bearable. You make me laugh without even meaning to, you always make sure I'm safe, you support me doing the things I love, and I truly trust you. You speak of your parents with the kindness and respect I think everyone should. You are the perfect cautious, hyperactive yin to my wild, sometimes lethargic yang.

For the first time, I can honestly say I'm the best version of myself, and that is more than partially because you make me want to be better. I love you for so many of those reasons, but most importantly, I love you because you have never made me wonder - even for a minute - whether you love me, too.

"Lucky" doesn't even sum it up.