2 months, 3 weeks, and a day.

"If you saw the size of the blessing coming,  you would understand the magnitude of the battle you are fighting."

It couldn't pass soon enough.  This boy had walked in and offered to carry her heart in his hands. 
She trusted him.  The one thing in this world that brought her peace was his presence. He had loved her when she wasn't sure that she could possibly love herself. He loved her when she wasn't entirely lovable. It was beautiful the way he put her insecurities to rest. The way he swam into her eyes and staved off all of her fears. And embraced all of the dreams she kept buried beneath her worries. His eyes were the kind you could get lost in. And over and over again, she would lose herself there, then find herself again. Only wishing to be lost one more time. He was her favorite hello, her hardest goodbye. He stayed through her darkest nights, and was privileged to see her brightest days. 
He fell in love with her courage. Her sincerity. She was genuine: and real. It was in these things that he'd believed. That he loved her was the beginning of everything. She was delightfully chaotic; a haphazard mess. Loving her was to become his life-long adventure. Their love was impractical.  Loving him was not a lot like whole new world. It was more often like coming home. But each and every day, it was a deliberate choice to return home to him.  Her home was made in him.   Home went from being a place to being a person.  She had closed her eyes to old ends and opened her heart to new beginnings. And suddenly, he was her everything. She had loved. 
She loved him.