Darling, I want to love you the only way I know how -- like a broke college kid.
I want to love you like drinking discounted wine from HEB, listening to music on Spotify and slow dancing to "This Town" by Niall Horan in celebration of the rent check clearing.
I want to love you like having both of our hands on the gas pump -- mine on top of yours -- as we split the cost of filling up our tank half-way. That's the best we can do right now, and that's more than okay.
I want to love you like picking flowers for you from the garden outside my apartment in April rather than buying a boquet at Kroger because a hand-picked boquet has so much more meaning to it, even though I am terrified of dirt and bugs.
I want to love you like sharing a bag of Doritos and splitting the last chip in half, even though we're both still starving and don't know where that next meal will come from, but as long as we're together, we will make it work.
I want to love you like turning off the car and rolling down the windows during our late night car dates, even though it's the middle of August and we're sweltering with our mascara nearly running down our face, but as Olaf the Snowman said, "Some people are worth melting for."
I want to love you like trips to the Frozen Yogurt shop with no intention of buying any, only to fill up on free samples and then laugh and laugh, and then laugh some more over ridiculous Halloween costume ideas until we nearly develop washboard abs.
I want to love you like blanket forts, hoodies and BOGO Redbox movies on Friday nights because who needs overpriced movie tickets and dirty movie theaters? All we need is each other and the comfort of our own apartment.
I want to love you like amateur Fall photoshoots in October, with nothing but our outdated smartphones and the beautiful crisp, red and yellow leaves on the ground, as not even the greatest camera with the world's best quality could capture your perfection.
I want to love you like your favorite holiday scented candle wrapped in a Walmart bag with a card made from notebook paper, and your name written in cursive with a Sharpee and a heart over the "i's" in your name, even though if I could, I would buy you a castle. Even though I'm not Cinderella, you're still the perfect fit.
I want to love you like a broke college kid-struggling, yet persevering. Difficult, but never impossible. Tired, but never weak. Successful, but always striving to be even better.
Optimistic, content and looking towards the future -- one hand holding your hand, the other holding my degree. Ready to take on this new and exciting chapter with you by my side, ready to spoil each other the way we've always wanted; the way we always have.