My parents don’t have a romantic story to go along with their encounter, but I am convinced that their love was real. I am fortunate enough to not have been a sloppy mistake after too many drinks nor an accidental sex session based off false words. Perhaps I was too young to know what love meant to me, but I saw the way my father’s eyes magnified whenever he saw my mother smile. I saw the way my mother’s cheeks flustered when my father told her that he loved her – it was as if she didn’t believe that she could have been loved until she met my father. My father would leave my mother handwritten notes of encouragements on days that she was nervous, scared, or sad about something. My mother would dance the night away with my father in the living room, at parties, and in the middle of a crowded restaurant. I witnessed them be in love and stay in love. I could only hope that one day I, too would experience the love I witnessed. My parents taught me to believe that the strongest force in the world was love.