Dear Journal,

Today was a special day—May's 27th birthday.

Yes...her name is May and she was born in May.

I finally had the chance to present her with the dress I had been working on for her. I had hoped to have it ready for our anniversary, but I wanted it to be perfect. The dress is a stunning green, matching the depth and beauty of her eyes. Seeing her in it took my breath away.

May blew out the candle on her birthday cake with such eagerness, and I couldn't help but find it endearing how she closed her eyes tightly to make a wish. I asked her what her wish was, but she smiled and said she'd tell me one day—just not now. Her kiss, sweetened by sugar, was the perfect birthday treat.

When I asked if there was anything else she wanted for her birthday, she simply told me that I was enough. With that, she pulled me towards the bedroom, and I couldn't have been happier.

I made a mental note to order more icing for the next celebration.

As I sit here, reflecting on today, I realize that my love for her grows deeper every day. She's become my everything, and I'm grateful for every moment we share.

I'm different but not entirely the same. Confused? So am I.

I'm not going to deny that I'm happy for once in my life.

I could die happy.

May is calling me. That woman has me whipped and she knows it.

Much to do,

Alexander