we can't wait to celebrate with you!

I knew Brock was the one when I was six years old, and I have the evidence to prove it. Well, it’s possible that was an overstatement, but I do have multiple diary entries from elementary school saying things along the lines of “Mrs. Kara Bushyager” and “Dear Diary: !!!<3<3<3Kara + Brock<3<3<3!!!” He stayed in the cabin next to my grandma every summer, and I thought he was the most handsome boy I had ever seen. His long, shaggy hair and frequently sunburnt skin was a heartthrob to me. Our families were friends, and I used that as often as I could to spend time with him. I liked him well into my teenage years, but we found ourselves on the wrong sides of the country, in other relationships, and with very different lives. We were content to be friends, but a childhood crush doesn’t easily die. As time wore on, we kept coming back to each other. We began relying on each other in ways that were different from our other friends. We became close. In summer of 2018, I began to relive my diary entries from a decade earlier. Our conversations shifted into something different. He was only able to come up for one week that summer, but that week changed everything. We officially began dating that August, and I was amazed that I kept finding more things to love about him. He crushed my expectations of him and built my reality bigger than I could have imagined. I also quickly found out that I loved him enough to wait, and to wait a lot. Brock's military career meant there were long stretches of time between when I could see him, and sometimes even between when we could talk. Letters and 3 am phone calls became precious moments of getting to hear Brock's voice, and at every turn, I found him to be worth all the waiting. In July, Brock asked me to marry him. I, along with six-year-old me, was happy to say yes. Next July, we finally get to end the waiting. Next July, I prove six-year-old me right. Next July, I vow to spend the rest of my life with the love of my life.