I never had a diary growing up. Never wrote things down, floating through life with file cabinets in my heart. I liked to live life, recollecting moments through my memories. I believed my memories were better than photographs. My memories – always perfect, vivid, never tainted, remembered through the grandiose stories I created in my head about my life. Today, though, I feel so different. At this very moment, I want to save how I feel. I’ve been pacing my living room trying to figure out a way to capture my emotions. What I want to feel. What I don’t want to feel. I want to do something, anything, to help myself remember these tears, these emotions, this love I feel. Right now, at this very moment, I’m grateful for this blog. Tonight, she is my outlet. She is my diary of sorts. I want to shout out from the rooftops about the wonder of my love. The love that makes me smile and want to rip my hair out, all at the same time. The love I get to experience. Through my eyes, through my heart. Love inspires. Love hurts. Love feels good. Love nurtures. Love is what makes my world twirl. Every single day. Love…is my life. And I pray to remember it anyway I can. Through memories. Through words. Through photographs. Forever.