People have said that the first year is the hardest, or that learning to live together was hard. Our first years have been easy, and living with him is a joy. I’m so grateful for how good we have it.
He’s always willing to listen, he never judges me when I cry over absolutely nothing, and he’s the best big spoon. Meals are frequently frozen pizza and koolaid, but we splurge on ice cream for dessert. We’ve moved across the country together, and while we have no idea where we’ll be in a year, all that matters is that we’ll be there together.
He hates being in front of a camera, but he knows how much it means to me to have photos of us, so once a year he allows it. This year he climbed halfway up a volcano in brand new suede shoes for me. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.
There is nothing to compare to the feeling of knowing that whatever happens, at the end of the day I have him to come home to, that he will listen and understand and give me strength and love me no matter what.
At our wedding, his best man said in his speech that we feel like a couple that has already been married forever. “So here’s to the next 10, 20, 200 years,” he said.
Two down; 198 to go.