He’s not perfect. He’s not prince charming, sweep you off your feet and marry you. He’s geeky, and he’s overweight. He’s shorter than me, and I love him for all of it.

We’re standing in an exhibit at the art museum. I can’t concentrate on anything without thinking back to the fight that morning, and I try to distract myself.

I brush my hair back from my face and turn my attention back to the portrait in front of me, but my eyes keep drawing back to him. I step back from the painting and glance around the walls surrounding me.

He turns when he sees me glancing at him, and he walks over. He’s wearing that dumb hat he loves so much. I smile down at him, hoping he didn’t notice how upset I am.

He stands on his toes and kisses me on the forehead before smiling up at me, and I smile back. He turns to look at another painting. “Did you want to check out the modern art exhibit?”

With him I know everything will be okay. Even if neither of us are perfect.