A whole dozen of them. Into the second decade.
It's a long time to have someone in your life. Especially as friend, companion, and lover.
A dozen years means a lot of changing and growing when you get together at such a young age.
It means expanding your world views, discovering who you are as a person.
Not everyone's relationship can survive such reinventions of the individuals involved.
But we have.
We have not only survived, but have thrived.
We have been through the fire and the flood. We have overcome obstacles and challenges that we've never even dreamed of.
We are completely different people than when we started this relationship. Vastly different. Our entire relationship itself has changed.
We're a little older, a little wiser. Way more secure in our individuality.
And somehow, someway, we're still head-over-heels for each other.
We still love waking up next to each other and falling in bed together every night. We can still talk for hours, laughing and carrying on. We're still each others greatest support, cheerleader, and constant companion.
We spent this past Saturday celebrating our anniversary at the Cleveland Art Museum. And in front of the Van Gogh's they have on display, John reaffirmed what I already knew: that he was committed to us and what we've built together. Even through all of our life changes, he was still in love with me.
We're finally at the point in our lives that we feel happy and content with the people we've become. And we want to reaffirm and recommit ourselves to each other, to our new selves.
So, next February, we've decided to throw one hell of a party. Something we're calling a recommitment ceremony.
Not a wedding. Not a vow renewal. Something new and different. Something to celebrate who we are, what our lives have become.
Which means I have one hell of a year of planning and crafting in front of me.
So, happy anniversary, my love. Hope you're ready to bust out the glue sticks and glitter. Because we're in for one hell of a ride.
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