Dear Randy,

Fourteen years ago we were sitting in your mom’s living room, talking about our hopes and dreams. We had just met four months before, but already – we knew. We knew we’d grow old together, and that our destinies included each other. You were shuffling around, acting like a weirdo, kind of talking fast but also talking really low and quiet – later I’d come to realize that this is how you act when you’re nervous.

You said, “hold on, I’ll be right back” and you left me sitting alone in the living room on your mom’s couch, looking out the window at the birds in the birdbath in your mom’s garden. It was quiet and peaceful, but my heart pounded with excitement. We couldn’t wait until Christmas to give each other our gifts, and you went to your bedroom for a couple of minutes to grab yours.

You came out and you had your hands behind your back, and I remember you got down on one knee in front of me … you aren’t the kind of guy to make big speeches, you’re a man of few but purposeful words. You asked me to marry you, and I said yes, and I can’t remember anything else but feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

And fourteen years later: I realize that meeting you – it wasn’t luck. Falling for you – that wasn’t luck either.

It was Fate. Destiny. My own personal miracle.

I choose you, every single day of forever.