You thought I forgot.

I know you did. You thought I’d forgotten, brushed it off as something else I’d just do later or never.

I did put it off, but I put it off to think of just the right things to say.

I still don’t have just the right things to say.

I can’t believe it’s been two years. Two years, and that’s just since we’ve made it legal. Fried brains and scrambled medications and lots of turmoil have taken away a lot from the last few years, but I remember the excitement of that morning two years ago, getting dressed and knowing that I was putting on the dumbest clothes anyone ever got married in but also just not caring at all. I at least remembered to take the camera.

Our life will never really be ours and ours alone, and I’m okay with that. I’m okay with what we are. What we are is beautiful, really. I am reminded of that every time I step out of the shower and hear uncontrollable laughter from the opposite end of the house. Every time I realize how much of a family we have become – all of us, no matter how it looks to anyone else’s standards – I am more thankful. I couldn’t be more happy, or more blessed. There are quirks to everything. We are a series of those, but hey- whatever works, right?

And we work. In every sense of the word. From getting up in the morning and going to work, to working together, to playing Spiderman Memory games in the floor, to watching games of Mario and NBA 2kg4whatever, to sometimes just giving in and acknowledging that okay, maybe sometimes the house CAN be considered “cold” at 74 degrees, we push and we pull and we make things go sometimes against both of our stubborn wills.

I love you. Oh, I do.

I told you just the other night, no matter what, I plan to see this through. What I have for you is unlike anything I’ve ever known before, and I love you more than anything. I’m proud of you, I’m proud of me, I’m proud of us.

Happy anniversary. Here’s to lots more.

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