Wednesday, December 19, 2018


234

Happy monthly anniversary, my love. We are at the darkest part of the year, the shadow version of the time when got married in the lightest part of the year. It’s now also the monthly anniversary closest to Christmas and the start of a new year. It’s the time when you look forward and put the old year behind you. You close the door on it and see the turning of the year as a new beginning, when everything is fresh from the bumps and bruises from the previous year. And yet we exist in that space where we have a history that gives us a thread through time. We put old years behind us, but we mark milestones. Next year, we celebrate 20 years of marriage. We don’t put those behind us. We add on, we take pride in that. It is the story of us. 

Monday, November 19, 2018


233

To my love. Again, another month for us together and in love. We huddle together as the nights grow darker and colder. This year, we celebrate Thanksgiving in our home, reprieved from the grind of holiday travel and the crush of families and the alien surface of guest beds. At least for this year we can have a casual Turkey Day with us and the cats, a trimmed-down affair with small portions and sleeping in and no preconceived notions and pressures of having a prefect holiday for family and friends. We don’t get a lot of these low-stress holidays, but I’m grateful for when we have them. It’s just us, and the cats begging for over turkey. It’s compact and I’m in the familiar territory. I’m comfortable. And I’m with you, my love.

Friday, October 19, 2018

232

To my love,

Another happy monthly anniversary to you. I love you. I hope I make you happy. I hope that I let you know every day that you are loved. I hope you know you are special. I hope you feel warm and protected and appreciated. I hope I do right by you. I hope you know you are special and I work every day at being a person worthy of you.

And may I always be worthy of you.

I love you.

Wednesday, September 19, 2018

231

I need to start thinking about what we are going to do for our 20th anniversary.

I need to write more.

I need to be a better person.

I need to love you better.

Better. More. The expectation of change and being something greater than you are. Part of love is being aspirational, where you make yourself into a grander vision of what you are now. You do it, I think to show how much you have learned, how much you have changed for the better. You do it because you don't want to admit you've lost a step with age, and you are still capable of the grand gesture, the romantic sweep. You do it because you don't want to take the other for granted. You do it because, you think, if you do such a thing, you'll get someone in return who will make a grand gesture for you, some kind of echoing that says, "I'm grateful for you in a way that's made of fanfare and supernova light."

I do it because I'm scared of taking you for granted and letting love die. When either happens, we become hollow, and I think that's the worst crime a person can commit: taking away the things that keep us from being hollow and dead inside.

I love you.

Sunday, August 19, 2018

230

Sorry, my love. I had something written here. I don't know why it didn't take. I assure you, I didn't forget. Belatedly, happy monthly anniversary. I love you.

Thursday, July 19, 2018


229

To my love. A note, forged with love and delivered with clockwork devotion, to say that I love you and I’m grateful you are part of our adventure. I’ll miss you when I travel on business, but I’ll be home soon with you and the cats. Know I’ll be thinking about you and the cats the whole time. At least when I’m not waylaid by jet lag. 

I love you.

Tuesday, June 19, 2018


228

19 years as of today. 19 years, sometime after 1 p.m. Seattle time, you said yes. I don’t remember much else. Flashes, I think. Important parts after the names and faces. I remember us. I remember a tapestry of a crowd. I remember it didn’t rain. I remember the white archway. I remember a rookie preacher, us being his first marriage. Your sister sang, a friend of ours did a reading. It was fast, the whole thing. I think the tapestry of the crowd was more excited than we were. We knew what we wanted. I think sometimes the wedding is for other people. No, look, really, we are doing this. We are a for-real couple and we dressed up to say things and you will give us gifts and no there won’t be dancing.

I think we wanted it over with. I think this was a formality, some kind of ritual that we had to do for everyone’s benefit. But we knew already. We knew that having words spoken or rings exchanged wouldn’t matter. We were already there, at that place that the ceremony was supposed to symbolize. Everyone else was catching up. 

Now we are here, 19 years distant. Between that and how long I knew you before, you’ve been part of my life for more than half of it now. It’s the better half, without a doubt. I can only hope I do the same for you. I love you.

Saturday, May 19, 2018

227

This month we've traveled to what people would call paradise. It's a family thing, and I want you to know I'm trying not to be in my head for this and enjoying the time away from work and cats and what I do all day in front of a laptop, drafting up imaginary people and synthetic personalities. It's hard for me, relaxing. I don't have a lot of experience being in the moment. I'll try. I'll be with you. I'll swim with turtles. I will be a tourist. I will try and inhabit another skin for a while. With you. I love you.

Thursday, April 19, 2018


226

To my love, a happy monthly anniversary. Thank you for being there. Thank you for helping me along when I struggle and falter. Thank you for being understanding. Thank you for having faith. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for saying yes. I love you. 

Monday, March 19, 2018


225

I miss you, my love. I’m ahead of you by 20 hours, so it’ll be first time we have a monthly anniversary that’ll last two days and we’re apart for it. I know I’ll be home in a few days, culminating in the longest Friday of my life. I think you’d really enjoy New Zealand. It’s a lot like Seattle, pushed through a European filter of being a crossroad for culture, a social safety net, and a general feeling of calm and welcoming. It’s not perfect, no place is, but I think you would enjoy it here. I suspect I’ll be travel far more than I was in the gaming industry. I hope to take you along in this adventure at some point. We’ll have Hawaii in a couple months, so at least there’s that. Anyway, I’ll be home soon. I love you.

Monday, February 19, 2018


224

Happy monthly anniversary to you, my love. It’s been a month of starts and stops, of waiting and seeing, but also a month of change when it comes to me… or at least work. I think I might have something lined up. I’m in that limbo of paperwork and different time zones between me and a potential employer. Thank you for being patient and supportive all this time. Thank you for being proud of me during them time of endless resumes and applications I love you. 

Friday, January 19, 2018

223

Our first monthly anniversary of the new year. Still looking for work, but there are a number of leads at least, and we are economically stable for a while. It's just the ego erosion that comes from not having a job to go to every week day. It's expected we are supposed to go to an office during the day, and if you don't, you are a failure. 

I'm grateful you don't see me like that. You know we've been here before, and in time we'll both have jobs and have our return to the day adventures in other offices and being home together in our depart and return modern work cycle, finding our domesticity in the evenings, when we are grateful to be together again.

I love you.