Dear...

Dear Pumpkin Patch,

I can't promise this won't be a sappy, gooey, mushy letter.  But I can promise that it's all true.  You know that.

Here's the thing about you.  When all girls are little and imagining their perfect guy, there are certain traits that they desperately hope they can find in someone, but secretly know don't actually exist.  The thing about you is, you have those traits.  Every single one.  You're everything I realistically and unrealistically ever wanted.  And then there are parts of you that I didn't even  know a person could have.  Amazing things that just make me think, 'Wow'.  You have all of that, and you picked me.  That's what is going on in my head when you look at me and ask, "What are you thinking?"

I've gone through so much in just the past couple years alone, so much shitty, awful stuff.  But I would do it all again if that meant I would ultimately get to you.  I still can't believe I get to fall asleep every night and wake up every morning with you next to me.  I've told you before and I'll tell you again; you are absolutely stunning, inside and out.  

There aren't many people that can put up with the absolute ridiculousness that is my personality.  My singing in an awkward voice and dancing in an awkward way around the apartment, I'm pretty sure that at least 80% of the time you're laughing with me and not at me.  And that's pretty cool.

Thanks for surprising me with peanut M&M's with a list of reasons why you love me written on the bag.  Thanks for not liking it when I forget to leave a paper towel note on your mirror for you to come home to after work.  Thanks for telling me every night that I'm beautiful and that you love me.  Thanks for proving me wrong about my first impression of you and thanks for letting me prove you wrong about your impression of me.  And thanks for being hot.  Seriously, it's unreal.

I love you a whole bunch of bananas and I will for the next hundred and one years.

Love,

Dogface