Our 13th wedding anniversary! You know I’ve always had a thing about making it to ~ and past ~ 13 years. Silly, right? It’s not logical. And anyway, longevity in and of itself is meaningless. Still, I’ve always wanted to be your longest relationship. I just have.
And now here we are. I don’t really remember my life before you. Yet I can’t quite account for all that time together. Thirteen years. Thirteen years? Thirteen. Years!
I don’t know what I envisioned we would be at this point. Maybe I thought we’d be older. Maybe we are older and I just don’t see it. Maybe as we march towards old age our eyes have stayed fixed on some more youthful date in the past. Maybe I thought we would have all the answers ~ that life would have been figured out and squared away and things would just be easy by now. I don’t know. But I do know that I’ve never met a person as infuriating as you are. I know that I’ve never met a person whom I trust so fully with me. With all of me ~ from the magnificent me all the way to the parts I’m scared or ashamed of. Since day one ~ since moment one ~ since our first eye contact and moment of implosion that would cause both our lives to jump their respective tracks and become one track headed in a direction we hadn’t planned on and going God knows where ~ you have never seen anything but the full, honest truth of me. And you never left?!?!?!?! I know that I’ve never had a better friend. I know that I never will. I know that there’s no one else I’d rather spend a lazy day with. I know that there’s no one else I’d rather fight with. I know that there’s no one else I’d rather laugh or whisper with. I know that there’s no one else I’d rather have kick me under the table. I know that there’s no one else I’d rather clue me in to the fact that I might be wrong. I know that there’s no one else I’d rather share my day with, or have their day shared with me. I know that there’s no one else I’d rather be hurt by. I know that there’s no one else I’d rather confuse. I know that there’s no one else I’d rather spoon with for five minutes before thinking, “Jesus Christ, you’re a furnace. Get away from me and go back to your own side of the bed.” I know that I am thankful everyday that you let me love you. I know that there’s no one else I’d rather celebrate triumph with. I know that there’s no one else I’d rather have holding my hand during those other times, which come too frequently and recklessly. I know that you make me a better person by supporting the best parts of me. I know that you make me a better person by not-so-gently nudging me away from the more self-destructive aspects of myself. I know that I never make those moments easy. I know that you make me laugh. I know that I love our language and our secrets. I know that I love our past. And I know that there’s no one else I’d rather wrestle with the demon-angel of intimacy with.
These are all the things I know. Everything I know is contained in the paragraph above. The things I don’t know are everything else. An infinite number of liquid lava combinations and permutations of a world which is now our future, but will one day cool to become our present, and then harden and solidify into our past. And in no incarnation of those worlds is there completely smooth sailing. In no incarnation is the world ~ our world ~ without its pain and difficulties. So here’s the last thing I know: I know that there’s not a human being alive on this planet I’d rather have next to me as the unknown approaches and has its way with us.
What a hilariously random and magnificent accident finding you there on the dance floor that night, so many years ago. In a past century. Who knew the older dad with three young kids, an über-religious ex-wife and a family and career in Ohio would be “the one”? You were not on the list. As I’m sure the flighty actor was not on yours. And yet… And yet.
So what do you say, honey? Wanna go for 26? And then 39? And then 52? Wanna just keep going?
I can’t imagine doing anything else.