I’ve only just realized that if you count up all the years that George and I were not romantically involved–both before I ever met her and for the year-and-change we were friends but not a couple…
Well, as of this anniversary, we’ve been married (not just together, but actually married) for for an equal amount of time.
I mean, maybe not exactly–it could be off by a couple of months–but for all practical purposes.
In that time, there have been a lot of ups and downs, some extreme (and I was at fault for more of the downs than I’d like to acknowledge). But we got through them all, in part because George has been inhumanly patient and supportive, and in part because I’ve fought harder for it than I have anything else in my life.
We wouldn’t have made it without a lot of work (and I don’t think I would have made it if we hadn’t), but it was worth every bit of effort. Because things are good, and I only see them getting better. I can barely remember life before her, and can’t even imagine life without her.
I love you, George. Happy anniversary.
