Today Guy and I have been together for five years. How strange it is to me to think that five years and one day ago we were just friends, flirting with the idea of something more. We were both seventeen years old, on the cusp of adulthood and high school graduation and wondering if it was too late to start something that probably wouldn’t survive the strain of long distance. We spent nearly two years seeing each other one or maybe two weekends a month, whispering across the static of telephone wires, sending each other postcards followed by a two year engagement full planning and dreaming and waiting and hardships and tears and uncertainties. And now we are adults, with full time jobs, electricity bills, a little family of our own (mainly le pups) and have been married for just over eight months.
To my (now) husband,
Thank you for loving me even when it’s not easy. For always surprising me, even after all these years. For becoming part of my family. For taking care of my brother when he was sick and taking the morning shift so my dad could get some sleep before work. For getting up with the dogs in the the middle of the night, when its raining or cold or just nighttime. For loving me even when I was 40 pounds overweight. For loving Cooper and Scout and Sadie and never considering them just dogs, especially when something terrible and terribly expensive happens. For being the one who always reassures me that it’ll work out. For never letting me quit even when I think I want to For pinky promises sealed with kisses and never growing (all the way) up. For laughter. For trashcan pictures. For being a cuddler, even if you are a blanket stealer. For always standing up for what is right and marching on city hall. For tulips, for Europe, for backrubs. For Love.