Yesterday I spent several hours reading through my old journal entries from the four months Kory and I spent in India. They were difficult months, but boy were they sweet. I have 263 single spaced, sometimes-twelve-sometimes-ten point font pages from that time. As I read through those pages, I realized that all those clumps of jumbled, love-stricken words are probably some of the most cherished possessions I have. The lengths it took to document almost every word, every conversation, are all worth it now. Because I now have a ridiculously detailed account of all the things we said and did and joked about while we were falling in love. Even if it might not have been until page 200 that either of us realized we were falling. Now, looking at my sweet husband, I love those words even more - because they are sweet reminders of the beginning of a beautiful thing. And because I adore him now more than ever.