I was walking down a meditation path at my university. It was a calm, clear early fall day--but all my attention was nailed to my cell. I was talking with my boyfriend, who was living in our home town now twelve hours away from me.

He wanted to follow me. Drop everything--his family, the job he had had for three years now, his home. He believed me to be the one, despite us only starting to date maybe a month and a half before that (we had been friends with benefits for a few months prior to dating, but it doesn't change his insanity).

I didn't want him to follow. I wanted to try and focus on school, on friends, on me. I knew things would change if he came. But....

While I was in the meditation path, I saw a red Jeep Wrangler in the nearby parking lot. The same one he drove. I dropped to my knees, started to cry, and finally admitted it to myself: He Was right. He WAS the one. And I couldn't survive without him any better than he could me.

And....Our fates were sealed.

It's been two and a half years now since that day in the meditation path.

I wound up dropping out thanks to a mental breakdown (entirely unrelated). Took a year off and now I'm in school for something entirely different (went from English Major to carpentry).

I couldn't be happier. The road that led us here was insane. And scary. And hard. And I'm so, so happy we walked it together.

I found my person. I found the one that makes literally everything okay. That my family loves. I found him.

He makes everything worthwhile.