I was looking through old pictures, papers, and other saved documents on this laptop of mine.
It has begun to run so slow because the memory is so chock full. Thus, I have promised Zane I will work on clearing up some space. While scrolling through some old papers from college, and old church talks, I stumbled upon a document titled "Zane's Ring".

Some of you who know me may know that occasionally I'll write little silly poems to go with gifts that I feel like need an extra somethin'. It can take a gift from simple, and unsurprising, to a cute little memorable package.

The Christmas before Zane and I got married, as one of his Christmas gifts I gave him his wedding ring. He obviously knew it was coming, but it's a pricey little sucker, and a symbol of something very sacred. I didn't want it to go over looked I suppose, so I wrote a little poem.

This morning I stumbled upon that poem, and value it more now than 2011 Brooke realized I would.

It goes as follows...

Poems are cheesy, I know. 
But it’s supposed to be cute, not a talent show. 
You already knew I would get you this ring.
But I want you to remember it’s a special thing.

It means that I’ll love you for better or worse,
it means that I’ll never make you hold my purse.
It means that I’ll kiss you good morning and night,
it means I’ll still love you after a fight.
It means that you’ll have to kill all the bugs,
but I will reward you with kisses and hugs.
It means you’ll have to check under the bed, and in the closet,
it means that you will have to fix every leaky faucet.
It means I’ll tickle your arms and play with your hair,
it means “I promise to always play fair.”
It means that you never have to be alone anymore,
It means that we’re blessed, no matter how poor. 
This ring means that I’m yours forever,

and honestly my love, what could be better?

Looking back on these words, I realize now, I basically wrote Zane vows. 
Although I may not have kept my word when it comes to holding my purse, everything else rings truer today than ever before. 

I am no Keats, but this long lost document just became a very special keepsake, and I think I shall keep it.

Who knew I was such a romantic?

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