Tomorrow the husband and I will celebrate 8 years of marriage, though our relationship is just a little less than twice that old. It all started on that first day of Computer Skills Workshop freshman year, when I whispered to my friend that the instructor was hot. Or maybe it was that day, when class had ended for the semester and I ran into him at a frat party, bummed a cigarette, and ended up watching Dazed and Confused in his room at 2am. It was definitely not the day he took me to his fraternity formal. Though it could have been the next day, when he called me up apologizing on his birthday and asked me to come watch X files. Part of it was the day we finally went out to a movie, that day that we first kissed. Somehow, someday, we started.
I remember the exact moment that I fell in love with him. We were sitting in his room watching tv and he got up to get something. After a minute he called to me, “Hey, come look, it’s snowing.” I thought, what boy cares if it’s snowing? I got up and stood by him at the window and watched the flakes sparkle in the street lamp and I knew then that he wasn’t just some boy.
But still, I didn’t expect that that hot instructor would become the love of my life, my partner, the father of my children, even after we had become exclusive, and everyone knew us as E and D. I didn’t expect it, but I really should have known. There had to be some magic at work to move us from playing beer pong, watching movies, and sitting around a frat house to living in the city, getting married, and raising two little boys.
After more than 15 years, he’s still my absolute favorite person. I don’t even know how that’s possible. We have never run out of things to talk about and he is always the first person I want to tell everything. When I look back at pictures of him from over the years, I never think, “wow, he looked so much better then!” I always prefer the man from now, whenever now is. I find myself thinking, “how did I get so lucky to marry someone who gets better looking as he gets older.”
Of course, everything is not, and has not, always been smooth sailing and love and roses. It’s work. I mean, hard manual labor at times. We’ve been through tough stuff and sometimes I thought we wouldn’t make it. But somehow, we have. And somehow, after all this time and all this growing and all this change, we still have fun together. Somehow, in the midst of our crazy lives, we have fun.
We often say to each other, “I’m so happy I met you young. I would never want to have to date. It seems awful.” We do mean that, but I think that what we really mean is, “I’m so happy I met you. I would never want to have to go searching for you. I’m lucky.” I am lucky.
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