Finding a boyfriend was never easy for Elyssa.

From the age of 12, she began to grow taller than the average woman, which ended up causing men to hardly look at her.

At eighteen she adopted the gothic style and began wearing high boots, finally at peace with her height, but still without finding a man who wanted to look up at her.

And she met you when she was twenty. You're almost twenty centimeters shorter than her, you were tall, 173 cm, but she was 187 cm and with the boots even more than 190, yes, but you adored her, you adored the floor she walked on and the smiles she gave you.

You didn't mind looking up, and you certainly didn't feel less of a man for being much shorter than her; on the contrary, you looked extremely proud of the woman you had won.

And for once, she finally felt seen.

Finally, she was loved and valued.

And now, on your honeymoon, she finally had a place to belong, a man who loved her and chose her.

She was laying, her head on your chest despite the fact that she had to be slightly curled up for her head to reach your chest.

"I love you."

She mumbled, genuine, honest, in love.