If I told you that I saw a rose grow from concrete, would you call me a liar? Probably so. But what if I told you that the rose is in fact. You. You see, I know the story, the fragile, yet intricate details of you. You started as a budding baby, sunlight wrapped you in warmth, the glow showed the world what was to come in years. But a storm started, rumbling in a tussle with the clouds. Through the raging wind came thunder, lighting, it couldn't be stopped. That same lighting shot sparks through you, dissecting the joy stored in your heart at birth. As the clouds cleared, you came back, amazing the sun with your strength to stay grounded. Sure, you wished your leaves could've been just a little stronger to free you from the concrete, but surrounded, you chose to remain happy and optimistic. Your heart is as soft as petals in the middle of spring. The core of your stem is as strong as ten hundred beings. You've been so unselfish when you turned to see yet another flower in the concrete. This flower was badly wilted, brittle at the touch of a hand. Yet, you helped me move the clouds. The sunlight began to peer into my soul. It is so nourishing to feed off of positivity. All I wanna do is thank you, love you, share space and eternity with someone so amazing. At night, I dream you are there with me. In my bed holding me the way a comforter does in the winter. I still fall for you like leaves in Autumn. Ever changing, yet the same in the way I love you. It wasn't until you handed me a bible that my heart told me you were it. I didn't believe love could come again until you taught me The Lord's Prayer. You encouraged me to go to church, to gain back the faith I had lost in God after my joy had been stolen. You are as rare as finding a jewel on a summer beach. If my heart could literally open it's door, you would find all you need to see. It would explain from A to Z why I love you, why you are so important to me. I love you.