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When I met him, he was twenty. I loved his eyelashes and his steadiness. He’s always dependable.
He writes almost exclusively in cursive. He is quiet, but he notices everything, and does little tasks to make my load easier. He’s the best sport about the noise and messes that come along with our little children.
We aren’t much for writing poetry or songs about each other. Our love isn’t flashy, but it’s faithful. Our love is ours, Daniel and Laura’s.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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