Why My Husband Wasn't My First Choice

It was one of the best days of my life when my husband got down on a knee in the middle of an Idaho winter and chose me to be his wife. And tonight, nearly two years later, I’ve run into some old pictures and some crumpled up notes–and all the while I hear my husband in the kitchen banging around pots and pans as he attempts to clean a messy kitchen– still here by my side two years later. Phew. We made it here *I know, not the longest marriage in the world, but it’s something*. 
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