I saw you, with your I-don't-care hair and your I-don't-like-shaving scruff, and I knew. 
I knew like Picasso knew his art and Mary Magdalene knew her God. I simply knew.

Call it whatever you want---the divine at work, foolishness of the mind, or the imagination of a romantic soul---
but something in the pit of my stomach knew without a shadow of a doubt or a moment of hesitation that you would make this half whole.

Knew that I wanted our paths, our words, our beliefs, our convictions, our souls, our purposes to align.
Knew that I wanted to spend a thousand mornings waking up to your scent on the pillow next to mine.  

Knew I wanted to explore the jungles of Africa as you walked right next to me.
Knew I wanted to backpack through Europe, walk on cobble stones through Italy.

Knew I wanted to create a compass that you and I would share
A compass built by Love and Forgiveness that navigated the fear
and worries and faults and untold stories of each of our hearts.
To find the uncharted parts of our souls and somehow make it art.

Knew I could never meet your standard, because you are the sun and I am a faulty light,
Knew that I am a mimicking glow-in-the-dark star you stick on your ceiling and you are the glorious night.

Knew that your hand was made to hold my hand. You don't think so? Reach out and grab it. I'll prove it to you.
Knew that your lips were made to kiss my lips. Kiss them in the morning and in the evening and in the night and in the afternoon.