I wish I could record every moment of my extended weekend with him and herein entail every plan we've made, but it would be impossible. My brain has logged every sigh and every glance and every touch so accurately, that to write them here would take down the system. It would overload it with words and clips of phrases and descriptive events and monumental sightings so much so that all the blogs in the world would be filled up with my sappy, sweet, over flowing, blissful verbal description of heaven on earth.

Between his beautiful house, the low rolling hills of Northern Pennsylvania, and the quant tiny town that he loves so much, I can't even give you a good picture of life with him. It's just too much. It's just everything.

He's just everything.