Today is Robyn's 36th birthday.
Most of the time, they don't want too much of a fuss made. A nice evening in, some good food, and they're happy.
But this year is different. This year feels like it needs a party, a parade, an entire world full of people celebrating my beloved.
Because they very nearly weren't here to celebrate at all.
Throughout the day today, that thought has slammed into my chest over and over. And the only thing I can do is to grab Robyn and hold them tight and just say 'I love you' over and over and over again.
But they are here. And we're through this nightmare of a recovery process. We're together and alive and I am so thankful.
So happy birthday, babe. You are amazing and wonderful and resilient and the strongest fucking person I know. I am so incredibly proud of you for not only not letting the consequences of the accident slow you down, but instead have somehow let it help you grow.
The way you are unashamedly yourself now and on the path to pursuing what you want out of life is absolutely awe inspiring.
I can't even tell you how lucky I am to get to stand beside you and watch you take on the world.
I love you so much, babe. Happy birthday and many, many, many happy returns.
