Six years ago, you walked out a glass door on a sunny day and into my life - you filled a space I didn't even know was empty. You made me laugh, you gave me butterflies, you stole my sunglasses. I danced around campus with a bottle in hand, you tried to make a ridiculously complicated drink and failed, you put your arm around me for photos and every part of me glowed.
Our first year was late night phone calls, novel-esque text messages, the steady blinking of MSN Messenger, counting down days, hours, seconds until we saw each other again.
Our second year was visiting homes, snuggling on sofas, tasting every dish on a Wagamama menu, wishing away weekdays and deploring Sunday nights. We giggled at jewellers and discussed dreams until you pulled a fake ring out of a chocolate egg and asked me to be your wife and the dreams began to come true.
Our third year we adjusted to work, to adulthood, to living together in your tiny childhood bedroom, cuddles under a baseball collection, becoming best friends.
Our fourth year we were awestruck by the Olympics, dazzled at Disney, utterly blindsided by the purchase of our first home together - another dream becoming real before our eyes.
Our fifth year, we struggled, we lost, we suffered, we cried - together, always together. Every time you broke down, every time I sobbed myself to sleep, every time it felt like the world was conspiring to suffocate us with sadness, we held each other close and promised it would get better, somehow.
Our sixth year... here we are. Three weeks from now I will walk down the aisle to you and promise to be the best version of myself for you. You make me a better person every day just through your unwavering love and support. I struggled to write my vows without sinking in clichés, but it's the truth - my world is better now that you're in it, and I am so happy and excited to become your wife.