
June 5th, my boyfriend gives me a ring telling me he loves me. That's when he tells me he want to marry me. I've known him since I first moved to America, he was my neighbour, one of my first friends, my first crush, and the first person I smoked with when in this country. The story is quite lovely. It's like it was destined to be. After a year, I had moved away from the neighbourhood to another city. We had lost contact after that, which was kind of sad for me because I really enjoyed my time with him. Two years later, January of 2010, we meet again through the Facebook site. We start to catch up and decide to meet up a week after. It was quite fun, we hit it off. One month later, we start a relationship. Four months into it, and it has been the best four months of my life. Nothing can ever bring me down when we're together. We never argue, we are musical soul mates. I love to shop, he does too. Isn't that just great? At least for me. There's nothing we could talk about, his knowledge is so vast. Like Nirvana's song, Heart-Shaped Box, he belongs in my mine. Because of him, I have changed for the better, and I've never been happier. I cannot see myself with anyone else, and I would, gladly, spend the rest of my life with him. Many of our friends say we're crazy to marry this early but, I say, that if I've found true love, why not just go for it?