"Are you allergic to anything?"
"Yeah," Calvin replied. "Road rash."

The nurse chuckled.
Calvin landed himself in the Instacare again. At 9:00 at night, I panicked. I still had 30 more minutes of work left and I had no idea what situation Calvin was in. The last time Calvin got into a bike crash he looked like an extra from a zombie apocalypse movie.
It was bad.

At 9:36 I burst open the door to our home where he is furiously inhaling the chili and cornbread I made earlier that day.
"Calvin! Whaaaaaaaatt happened?"
"I wanted to surprise you with a pastry from Shirley's," he said, "so I was riding my bike with one hand, tried to shift gears and lost control. It's coconut, because I know that's your favorite." Calvin half-pointed with his good hand to the table where a perfectly-shaped pastry was sitting in a clear plastic container.

My heart dropped. It was the saddest but most lovely predicament.

His knees and hands were bloodied and he had a wrist brace on. There was the possibility of a wrist fracture.
And all he was trying to do was love me.

People look for love stories in romantic movies, in deep poetry, or 80s love ballads.
However that is the stuff fairy tales are made of.

True love is not knights in shining armor rescuing distressed damsels in far away towers.
Married love is not full of roses and butterflies; frolicking in the field without a care in the world, (despite what people think.)
Real love is however, saying "I love you," and then proving it. Love isn't just a feeling but an unconditional commitment to put the other person first. I hope I can always live up to the stellar example of my husband. I try hard everyday. I've learned a marriage is not 50/50 its 100/100.

Even though I'm a newlywed, I know I have the real thing. The real, genuine, L-O-V-E.
I just hope next time it doesn't involve a trip to the ER.

Calvin being treated.

The love pastry.