The truth is that I don't really remember being nervous about marrying Andrew. I don't really remember thinking too hard about it and, except for one or two moments spent staring intently at my ring as I fell asleep, I never over-thought marrying him. I loved him, so I married him. Marrying him was the easiest and simplest decision I ever made in my life. It just felt natural. I love him for that. I love him for fitting into my life so nicely even though I am such a mess. I love him for making me believe in things I never thought I'd believe in before I met him. And I really, really love him for making me make this face at least three times a day. Y'know- the face where I'm laughing or kinda-but-not-really exasperated and I cover my face with my hands and make snarky comments back to him and then we laugh and kiss over the table or couch or pillow or emergency brake or stove. I love that. I love the little moments and I love that he slipped into my life before I even had time to bat an eye and that, once he got there, he stuck to me like glue.
Merry Christmas Week and Nearly Halfiversary, Baby.
You are the paint to my paintbrush and the pillow to my blanket and the cheese to my macaroni and the laughter to my jokes and the knuckles to my fist bump and, in fifty years, you'll be the white hair to my wrinkles.