So, today marks the point where my husband and I have been together (more or less, barring a few brief hiccups) as long as we were alive before we were together. I have spent half my life with this kind, supportive, wonderful, sometimes-frustrating, hilarious, sweet, affectionate, clever, intelligent human being. No relationship is perfect, and all of them have their highs and lows and ups and downs, but there’s no one else I’d rather laugh with or snuggle with or sit holding hands with or travel the whole damned world with, and not a day goes by when I’m not grateful that somehow a romance we started as teenagers has lasted and grown and become so much more than I ever dreamed.
I don’t have a scanner, but I do have a picture of a picture. This was the day it all began. Weren’t we adorable? Weren’t we young? Wasn’t I blonde? (I worked as a receptionist at a salon; I could never afford the upkeep on that now, ha.)