192

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.

191

To my love. Today we're apart, but we are still in touch. I'll see you in a couple of nights. Sleeping without you is a strange, unbalanced ritual I remember the echoes of it whenever I'm out of town on business, but the sinister distance of you or I being out of town alone is so infrequent you can't help but forget. 

Happy Anniversary, my love. I miss you. I love you.

190

A happy monthly anniversary to my love. I hear you in the next room, the computer playing Les Miz. I'm on the couch with Liam in a sunspot. All is calm, and I hope it always will be. I want to be the best for you. I love you.

189

I'll only be kissing you goodbye this morning, and that will be the extent of our anniversary together. Work has other plans, but we will be together soon, and with a new cat in our family. I love you, and happy anniversary, my love.

188

Happy anniversary to you, my love. Between me starting my new job, the car accident, and coming down with a cold, it's been an eventful week. At least we're happy here at home, where it's peaceful and quiet. I love you, and I love how the moment I come home and hear you, everything is better.