Yesterday I broke up with my boyfriend.

I had waited a long time despite the fact that the relationship was hurting me.

The person who helped me the most toward doing it is a friend I've loved for three years.

He helped me help myself, and at the end of this summer when I visit him, I plan to tell him that I am in love with him because his LGMH.
I've suffer from night terrors ever since I was raped.

I wake up screaming and shaking every night.

I hadn't slept in 36 hours because I was too scared to sleep.

You drove 4 hours and missed an important meeting just to hold me while I slept.

For the first time in 5 years I slept through the night.

I dreamt of you last night.

Baby your LGMH.

Love isn't fairytales and magic.

It's laughing til it hurts, curling up over our movie list, planning insanity, and embracing each moment.

It's enjoying the silence, appreciating the conversation and caring for each other more than we care for ourselves.

But mostly? It's the way I feel when I'm with you.

Last year, I met the perfect girl but she lived 200 miles away.

A few months later, she left me.

In August, she came back in my life and had turned her life around so she'd be good enough for me again.

We're dating the second time and she plans on moving here in a few months to be with me.

Kayla, your love gives me hope.

I love you so much.

Today, I talked to a war veteran and his wife.

He told me they've been married for 67 years.

And the way he looked at her, the way he held her hand, they way he called her beautiful.

I want that kind of love.