Love always comes in unexpected ways. Our love was the same. We found love by pure conspiracy of the older generation.
My ideal love story? Bumping heads while staring at cultures under the microscope. Being stared at while dozing off on my incomplete lab report.
My ideal proposal? Spotting TLC plates and putting it under the fluorescent light to find out the spotting read "marry me!"
My ideal wedding? No wedding. Let's sign the papers and love each other until eternity.
Children? None. Anytime I pictured my future, children were never in there. So, I concluded that I probably wouldn't make a good parent anyway.
Then I met you. The understanding you, the kind you, the gentle you, the you who turned my life around. Thankfully, I listened and trusted my grandmother. She was my Cupid.
You made me want to do the things I never imagined I would. I met you and my ideals went out the window. I saw you, I loved you, I married you, and I gave you children.
Do I regret any of these? No. Not one bit. As I penned this love letter to you, my heart still fluttered, my lips curled up, and my nose crinkled. I became a lover thanks to you. I became a woman thanks to you. I became a wife thanks to you. I became a mother thanks to you.
Quincy Davis, although I am in my 30s now, I love you like no other.
Here is to more years together.
P.S. There's a bun in the oven (might be buns hahahaha)