In the fall of 1994, I met someone*. We dated, but that didn’t work out in the long run. Life got in the way. Eventually, after some work and some time, we became friends again.
Six years later, we enjoyed a very long weekend together, but that didn’t work out in the long run. Life got in the way. Eventually, after some work and some time, we became friends again.
Four years after that, we enjoyed another long weekend together. Life, as it does, threatened to get in the way, but this time, we told it to go fuck itself. We became more than just friends, and we were going to keep it that way.
Less than a year later, on April 30, 2005, we said “I do.”
A full decade later, we have fought tooth and nail, through better and through worse, through sickness and through health, through thick and through thin. We have supported, excited, impressed, entertained, and loved. We’ve traveled so far, learned so much, and have come home to each other. We’ve been friends and lovers on-and-off for over twenty years, and husband and wife for ten.
It’s our anniversary, and a damned happy one.
* Spoiler Alert! It’s my spouse.