I don’t know how to explain this guy to you. His amazingness is hard to capture in words.

He is my partner in crime, in adventure, in creativity, in life. He is the best man I know, and the love of my life. He is kind and hilarious and goofier than anyone I’ve ever met. He is some kind of creative genius; everything he creates leaves me seething with jealousy (and pride). He is endlessly supportive of nearly every crazy idea I have ever had (he didn’t even bat an eye when I told him that I wanted to go to Ireland for six months without him; he  just told me to go).

He knows me right down to my core and he loves every part of me, and being seen that way, really, truly seen, is the greatest gift that anyone could have ever given me. He has seen the darkest corners of me, and his love has never wavered. He is the person that I never hold back with, and, more importantly, never have to.

He is brave and honest and loyal. Having him around makes me feel safer and stronger and wilder and braver, too. He is the keeper of our bright, wonderful future, and the anchor that keeps me tethered to the earth so that I am free to roam the skies. He is my biggest cheerleader and my gentlest critic.

He drags his ass out of bed to make me breakfast even when he would rather sleep for several more hours. He believes in me and himself and everyone. He loves music and has made me some of the best mixtapes of my life. He rocks a Jayne hat almost better than the man himself. He loves things fiercely and passionately and without reserve, me included.

I am lucky to know him, and even luckier to be loved by him.

Happy 25th birthday, babe. I hope that it is as mindbogglingly wonderful as you. Here’s to 75 more. 🙂