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“I love you, Tallulah. My Lulaloo, I love you so much, so deeply, I can’t even find the words to describe it, which, I’ll admit, after reading five hundred–plus romance novels, is a bit humbling, and yet that’s just it, Tallulah—I love those love stories, but they’re not ours. Our love story is the only one I want.”
Oh my god i loce them
“I’m no love expert, but I think I just might be an expert on loving you. Because you were meant for me, Tallulah, and I was meant for you. Your heart was meant to be with mine; I believe that.” Clasping her hand where it rests over my pounding heart, I tell her, “And my heart was meant to be with yours. It is yours. It always has been.” Bending, I kiss her, gentle and reverent, forehead to forehead. “My heart has been, and always will be, only and forever yours.”
I used to think not. But now I know, somehow, every part of life does keep getting better and better because I share it with him—
It could be magic, dancing through the air like fireflies sparkling in the darkness. But I know what it really is, woven between us, as elemental as the breeze, the tides, the sun that will rise and set tomorrow; what’s sustained me, healed me, what gave me this life to share with the woman I adore, this future of ours that I can’t wait to meet— Love.
