Wednesday, September 3, 2008
But still, at seven o'clock that evening, dressed to the nines (even with bare feet) I stepped out in confidence, knowing that I had been chosen by you. That we were choosing each other over every other potential mate the world had to offer, over the naysayers, over our families, and over anything else that might threaten to pull us apart. This, we determined, is the path we would travel, and we would do so together.
And, in a similar fashion, every day as I walk out of the house (never dressed as nicely but often still with bare feet), I meet the world as Mrs. Kyle Polk. Chosen. Loved. And bound to annoy the same man for the rest of our lives. Lucky you.
Let's have another 4, and then 14 and then 40. Shall we?
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