Happy anniversary, my love. Sixteen years. I said it out loud while waiting for a table with co-workers at lunch. It doesn't feel like sixteen years. I know time has passed, but it doesn't feel that gap the same way living sixteen years from birth to being a teenager. Our time just is, and this anniversary doesn't take into account the five years previous I came to know you. I have known you for 21 out of my 43 years. You are my life.
And lately, I think about how I used to be. I'm not proud of how shaky I was. If there's a positive spin to my emotional growth, which is the only way I'm benchmarking our years at this point, is that I can see how far I've come. I wish I could go back and change how I was. I know I shouldn't be ashamed, but here it is. Making it better is only something I can do now. And that's my gift to you.
That, and a new master bathroom.
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