I love reliving this day. The excitement, the peace, the sheer bliss. And I love telling the story of how it unfolded and remembering the little things that made it ours. Our 5 a.m. breakfast on the lanai, my frantic assembly of my own bouquet, our surreal beach ceremony, the ’97 Saturn getaway car… all in the most beautiful setting in the world.
Though no time period, certainly not something like three years, can quantify the life we’ve shared together– not only because, as it’s been pointed out, we’ve now spent one-third of our life together truly, but because of the richness of this time, every moment.
By that I mean the glorious bits and everything in between. Really, life is lived in the in-between. He makes the seemingly mundane parts ones to be treasured…coffee on a weekday morning, meals shared together, after-dinner walks, cozying up on the couch at the end of the day and reading or watching some stupid show that we mutually feel bad about watching afterward. If we sound like an old couple, perhaps we are. But the way I see it, we both just cherish simple pleasures.
My partner, my love. I never come close to capturing my adoration for him in words. I feel loved every single day. I feel it when we’re together and apart…When he holds my hand and kisses my head when we leave our first home… when he says You must go, when I ball up at the thought of leaving for almost three weeks to see more of this big beautiful world.
What a beautiful case of serendipity, meeting you many years ago.