I’d said it again tonight: “I’d pick my story, our story every single time.”

I know you heard my voice dip down low. And that you saw the mist roll over my eyes.

He probably noticed too.

But the stories I hear of others…they are what horror is, the deep dark corners of fear and disconnect.

It may be full of its own ugliness and I can’t say that every choice was the right one.

But I can say I’d choose our story EVERY TIME.

Thank you for being present even in my ugliness and bad decisions. Thank you for protecting me – us – from the worst of our nature.

Thank you for growth, and that which is to come.