A Valentine's Day Love Letter.

Sixteen years ago today, I sat in a movie theater with my best friend and threw popcorn at the couple making out in front of us. At the time, I was pretty sure I’d finish off my high school career the way I’d spent the rest of it—most likely dateless, definitely boyfriend-less.

Then, two days later, I got the call that, although I didn’t know it at the time, would change my life forever. It was Brian, wondering if maybe I’d like to go see a movie that evening.

I was more than a little shocked (he’d had a girlfriend as recently as the Friday before), but I thought he was cute, so I accepted. We went to see Aladdin and then sat for hours in a Burger King, just talking and laughing. It was a fantastic evening.

All told, we went out  four times that week (it was Winter Break)—and by the time school resumed the following Monday, we were a couple. I think everyone around us was surprised at the speed of it—and, quite frankly, so was I.

All I knew was I’d found someone who could always make me laugh, teasing me out of my darkest moods. Who I could talk to about absolutely anything—or nothing. Who had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen—and a darn cute little butt.

I’d found the love of my life, although I didn’t know it yet.

We made it through the college years—including a year and a half of long distance dating before my heart called me home. We got engaged in a mall, and married just two weeks after my twenty third birthday. I remember being simultaneously frightened to death and completely overjoyed.

The ten years since have been full of ups and downs. We’ve bought two houses. Lived in three states. Been so broke we couldn’t pay our bills. So lost, we almost couldn’t find our way back to each other. And more ridiculously happy than any two people deserve to be.

And now, we’re entering a new phase of our lives together. One with a new baby, a new definition of family, and a new, deeper kind of  love.

Someone recently asked me if I still loved my husband as much as I did when I got married. And my answer was “no, I love him more.”

Because as a wise woman once told me, we choose who we love. And while we proclaim that choice publicly on the day of our marriage, it’s a choice we have to continue to make silently, in our hearts, every day of our lives.

So, I choose you, Brian Christopher Page. For today, tomorrow and all the rest of my life, I choose you.

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