Happy Anniversary

Happy Anniversary to me and the bf! Today marks 14 years that we've been together.

At this point, we've been together for so long, I barely remember what things were like before him. Not that I want to. This man is, quite genuinely, the love of my life. He's also stuck with me until the day I die. (Yes, I go first. That's the rule.)

Now, I'm not typically the public displays of affection via the internet type. Hell, the one and only time I made a very specific anniversary post was when we hit ten years. And half the reason for that was to reinforce to some people that thought I was single that I very much was not. (That's a funny story. Remind me to tell y'all about it sometime.)

That said, this post might get a bit mushy. Mostly because I know he'll never read this, so it's a bit like gushing to your girlfriends about the man you're going to spend the rest of your life with. If that sounds nauseating to you at this time, maybe click off this post now.

Still here? Okay, then let's do this. Let's start with a trip down memory lane...

Christopher and I met when I started working at the hardware. He was my manager, and we were a varied crew of misfits with a couple of old-timers on the crew, salesman Mike, and rookie me. For the first two years I worked there, Christopher barely spoke to me. Which was fine.

Except that I always wanted him around. Even if he didn't talk to me. Even if we both dicked around on Youtube during the slowest parts of the day. Within the first few months of me working there, I felt comfortable around him. Which was saying something, because I was constantly afraid of getting fired, so I was rarely comfortable in that first year.

At some point, I couldn't help but smile when he was near. Even if either of us was in a shitty mood. He would come around, and I would feel at least a little bit better. And I would smile in spite of myself.

Fast forward to the summer of 2012: we'd grown more comfortable around one another over the winter. Not extremely comfortable, but to the point where we would share music and we were able to tease each other. We also got to see a bit of each other's bad moods and he got a taste of the demented nature of my brain.

It was one of the hottest summers either of us remember. There were so many days where he left early to go tubing down the river with his brother and his brother's then-gf. On one such occassion, I remarked that he had to be back by 4 because neither me nor our teen rookie of the year had keys. He basically said 'oh hell no' and made me a key on the spot.

At some point during his 'rush to the river' days, I'd mentioned that I'd never been tubing. To say he was appalled was an understatement. I distinctly remember him, very accursingly, asking me, "How long have you lived up here?" Ten years was my answer. "Ten years, and you've never gone tubing? We're going!"

Dearest reader, that's where it started. Granted, the words clicked for him not long after and he backtracked, saying I didn't have to go with him, etc. I said that I wanted to. So, on Sunday, July 1st, that's exactly what we did.

Quick lesson for those of you who've never gone tubing down a river: it usually involves 2 vehicles. You drop off one at the landing point, then everyone piles into the other vehicle and drives to the starting point to 'put in.' Well, if you don't have two vehicles (because I did not yet have my license, even though I had a car–a car that wouldn't fit ONE tube, much less two), you ask someone to pick you up at the landing point at an approximate time.

Well, reader, we'd asked our teenaged rookie from the hardware to pick us up. He did not. There is zero cell service down by the dam where we put in at, and it's just as minimal at Bobcat Creek where we landed. There was no calling someone to get us. Therefore, we had to walk down a long ass dirt road with our tubes, then alongside the fucking pavement to get back to the dam to his truck. And by the time we got there, we were so hot that we decided that we were just going to go again.

We went tubing every day that week after work. Then my period showed up and I didn't feel like going. So we decided on going to the movies instead. On July 8, 2012, we went to watch The Amazing Spiderman starring Andrew Garfield. On our way to the theater, we switched vehicles from his beat-up white truck to his Trans Am because, and I quote, "I'm not taking a pretty girl to Tawas in my truck." I absolutely was that blushing, happy faced emoji when I heard that.

During the movie, he held my hand. That night, we told our mommies that we were dating.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Oh, we've had our issues, but nothing we haven't/couldn't talk out. And I mean that literally. We don't fight. We have never fought. Even when we disagree, we talk, we debate, we challenge one another. But there's no yelling, and all insults hurled at each other are done endearingly or to win a game. (I always win. I'm inherently meaner than him.)

No relationship is perfect. That doesn't mean it has to be hard. And from the moment we got together, he's only ever made my days easier. Whether I want him to or not. Being around him is still just a soothing as it was all those years ago. Perhaps the only real difference between then and now is how differently we show our love.

We don't send each other cute, mushy little cartoons anymore. Instead, I write love letters and hide them around the house/garage. And he sends me reels that I never watch. Then we argue about AI usage, lol.

I guarantee that our lives aren't at all close to the futures we imagined ourselves in. I can also say with absolute certainty that neither of us want a future without the other in it.

Love you, Honey. Now, let's go have an adventure.