I have al­ways want­ed to mar­ry you. And for any­one who knew you back when we first met, it’s not hard to un­der­stand why. Be­tween the Elvis side burns and the “mon­ster truck”, it’s no won­der you were the per­fect fit for a spe­cial, se­quin-lov­ing girl like me.

The thing is though, some­where along the road you went from be­ing the man I want­ed to mar­ry and you be­came my fam­i­ly. And the great­est part about fam­i­ly is, just like in the Vel­veteen Rab­bit, it’s not about the bells and whis­tles (or se­quins and sparkles in my case). Be­cause you love who I am un­der­neath all that, with you, I can just be re­al.

So with that,
I promise to al­ways be re­al with you, up front and hon­est. Even when it would be eas­i­er to fake it.
I promise to laugh at your jokes. Not be­cause I’ll be your wife and it’s the nice thing to do, but be­cause I will al­ways think that you are the fun­ni­est boy that I know.
And fi­nal­ly, I promise that you will al­ways be my fam­i­ly. You are part of who I am, and that can’t ever be un­done.

I love you. And I’m so hap­py that we made it here.