Falling in love is even better than the books make it out to be. It’s the way I can see the reflection of the television in his glasses, and he looks so good, even when I’m upset with him. It’s the color of his eyes, as he searches mine to try and figure out why I’m upset. It’s the way he talks to me when I don’t understand how I’m feeling, and how my mind bounces between feeling upset, and realizing what a wonderful dad he will be. It’s the way he holds my head to his chest and strokes my hair while I cry, even though he has no idea why I’m crying. His patience is unmatched, unwavering, and one-in-a-million. How did I get so lucky?