Two.

It blows my mind that it's been two years since this happened.





He's my favorite thing.

If you had told me four years ago I would soon date, then marry, a man who



will get on a horse and feel comfortable taking off at top speed within two minutes,



understands the necessity of beating "Beatles: Rockband" in one evening,



can (almost) make faces as dumb as I can,



can read my very thoughts when I'm craving a dark chocolate bordeaux,



and can look like Eminem simply by putting on some camo and a hoodie,

I simply wouldn't have believed you, would have slapped you right across the face, and said, "Don't tell me things that are too good to be true!"

But you would have been right, and I would have had to apologize for the slap, and hope that you didn't want to press charges.

Happy two years to us.