When my mouth fails to move, the only recourse left is the keyboard beneath my fingers. Even then, I struggle with words. Even now, I’ve undone every sentence only to give up and try again tomorrow.

But it’s been too many tomorrows. And very few words.

So I’ve made up my mind to keep going. Committed to sharing this piece with you regardless of the errors or the complete lack of structure and imagery.

It feels crude that this is coming to you in prose. That it isn’t a poem filled with intertwining stanzas of metaphors to convey just how beautiful you are.

Sometimes it hurts just a little too much when you greet me in the morning. To see your blonde hair fall perfectly onto your forehead. To feel your hand cover my waist. To find comfort in your still, blue eyes. It aches just a little too much to wonder how someone like you still exists, here, with me.

It becomes a compelling argument for the existence of God. For only He would know how to create a man who could temper my fire. A man who could quiet the chaos that storms my mind.

A man who refuses to give up when every part of my body is fighting to leave this world. A man who has given me the gift of life.

As of late, I’ve cursed existence. I’ve tried to grab hold of the air that surrounds us as if to feed my anger and resentment. I’ve bathed in complete darkness even as the sun rose into the brightest of mornings.

And I’ve felt no better for it. To say I was left feeling emptier than before is too depressing of an understatement.

Should reality have set in sooner, I would have been humble enough to admit that in all of that angst, all I wanted was you.

That all I truly wanted was… you. To know that I’d never be alone. Neglected. Used. And taken for granted.

To know that your unexplainable baby scent would be there every single day. That your perfect feet would Tetris mine in bed every single night.

To hear your infections laughter fill the room. To fall asleep on your neck as you pick me up and rock me back and forth. To all the inside jokes and identical sense of humor. To our shared dreams and thoughts as if we were one person who could no longer be separated.

To the man I’ll be seeing as I walk down the aisle, I vow —

To find the strength to cast away the dread and the pessimism. To find courage in knowing we’ll be on this path together. To discover a love that is forever ours.

And just as I am tempted once more to erase all that has been written, I vow to let this stay and move forward.