The Country of My Love, for Paige

It is by opposites that we may even begin to define some things. I never knew that I was adrift in the vast ocean of my life until I saw the shore; and there you were, the country of my love, like Liberty, herself, beckoning me to wash up on your shore like a lonely piece of driftwood looking for a home with nothing but dreams of something to hope for—let alone a second chance at life, let alone the love of my life, my very own angel to cuddle up with beneath the blush of the milky way at Zion, my very own queen to kiss and make me blush like the red rocks at Sedona, my very own paramour pisces to make my blood run like a carving river at the Grand Canyon... Sea to shining sea, Portland, Miami, and everything in between was no place until you came to me, is no place at all unless you are with me because you bring sweetness to my life—kittens and Sugar, you're made of the stuff that makes a man want to be better, want to take time, because stars are not made overnight, but you've made me see stars in the dark and I can tell that they're jealous of the shine in your eyes by how they twinkle and cry up above, and all at once your brightening gaze blinds and bewilders my sight to things that don't matter—replacing it with genuine vision: a picture of us, always young and forever in love, home and country to each other and forever growing.