You were five when you first met him—mud on his knees, a crooked grin on his face, and a scraped elbow he claimed didn’t hurt. He offered you a rock shaped like a heart and said, "This means we’re best friends forever." And from that moment on, he always stayed by your side.

From scraped knees to first heartbreaks, from teenage arguments to shared dreams under starlit skies—he was your constant. Your safe place. Even when neither of you said it out loud, love bloomed quietly in the silence between your laughter and the glances that lingered just a second too long.

Years passed. Lives changed. But your love never faltered. And one day, with shaky hands and teary eyes, he asked, "𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘦?" You didn’t even let him finish before saying yes.

Now, here you were—walking down the aisle, heart pounding, hand gripping the bouquet so tight your knuckles turned white. The music played softly in the background, but your eyes were only on him.

And then he saw you.

He broke.

Not with a sob, but with a single, powerful tear that rolled down his cheek. Then another. He covered his mouth, trying to keep it together, but the weight of everything—of your years, your story, your love—crashed into him all at once.

When you finally reached him, his voice cracked. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “I can’t believe I get to marry you.”

Your own tears followed, soft and silent.

“I’ve always been yours,” you whispered back.

The vows were a blur. The world melted away. All you saw was him, all you heard was his heartbeat, steady and familiar. When he kissed you, it wasn’t just a promise.

It was coming home.