Eight years

Today is our eighth wedding anniversary. It seems like a lifetime ago and minutes ago all at the same time. When we met, I didn't even know I was looking for him. Once I figured it out, I knew I was not letting go. I have been truly blessed to marry such a great man. He is my best friend. It seems though, eight years ago, that I had no idea what I was getting into. I stood up at the alter and promised to stick it out with him in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, and in good times and bad. I meant it then and still mean it now. But standing there all those years ago, I had no idea what exactly it all was going to mean for us. We have been through a lot together. Our history is what makes us who we are. The good. The bad. The ugly. The indifferent. The exciting. The mundane. Our intellectual conversations and debates have fueled me and inspired me. His work ethic has helped me to develop a stronger one of my own. My need for planning has helped him be more prompt. We've been through some big stressors recently of losing jobs, finding new ones, moving to a new area of the country and through it all, I have never doubted that we are going through all of this together. He is my rock and I suspect that I am his. I know people say this all the time and it sounds trite but I love him more today than when we met because of what we've gone through and what I know we are capable of going through in the future - together. He is my teammate and most vocal supporter and I love him for it. Here's to many more years of happiness, trials, joy, and sadness. I wouldn't want to go through it with anyone else.