It's funny how you can search high and low for that other person and you can prepare almost every aspect of your life to meet someone, but in the end you're just playing it by ear when you're struck back by the right person stumbling out of a tent at eight in the morning hundreds of miles from where either of you live.

I've probably spent more of my life thinking about the fairer sex than most guys have. I've thought about how to find them, how to relate to them, and what the right one for me might be like. I've dreamed up a constantly-evolving checklist of what the right person for me would be like. I have my doubts as to whether or not Camille satisfies every criteria of any of the internal lists that I've made.

But the funny thing is that with all of my cogitation, all my imagination, and all my creativity, if I'd set out to create the best person with all of the best attributes most suitable to me in the longest of terms, there is no way that I could have dreamed up anyone better than the person that I found, stumbling out of her tent on a chilly Oklahoma morning almost two years ago.

That's not to say that we've been perfect and no problems have poked their nefarious heads in our lives. But together we're fantastic at wading through the problems as they come up. Which is good because we have some difficult decisions ahead. Some sacrifices and compromises by both of us are inevitable. But what gives me the most confidence about us is how little doubt I have that she and I will be able to work through whatever problems arise.

Camille, please turn around. I have a question for you.