Today is our two-year wedding anniversary. I'm not sure how it happened so quickly because I remember the details of that day so vividly that it could've been last week. And, yet, at other times, it feels as though we've been married a lifetime. I've wrapped my world so completely around yours that the thought of what today would've been like if we hadn't met makes me feel unwhole somehow.
Sure, we have our moments. We wouldn't be human if we didn't. You know, times like when you're driving and you leave the windshield wipers running at full blast after the rain has tapered off and my head wants to explode as I mentally count how many motorized swipes it takes you to finally realize that you're dealing with a dry surface. Or, you know, the times you have to control your eyes from permanently rolling into the back of your skull when I ask that you put certain glasses in certain spots in the dishwasher just to appease my neurotic tendencies.
And then there are our knock-em-down, drag-em-out fights -- usually over something completely minuscule, but seemingly important enough that both of us have to prove that we're right on that particular topic. I like to think that for passionate people like us, we need a few fireworks on occasion.
Besides, they never last very long. What I love most is that right when we're both seemingly at the end of our rope, somehow we start laughing. The apologies come soon after, but the insane laughter where we start playfully making fun of each other's arguments is my favorite. It's like intense speed-round fighting with a huge payoff at the end where we finally see where the other person is coming from, mixed in with a laughing-induced ab workout.
That said, I am forever willing to put up with things like overused windshield wiper blades and you wasting energy while standing with an open fridge as you take your sweet-ass time eating a whole pickle. Because even though I pick on you about those things constantly, I try to make sure I tell you how much I appreciate the good stuff, too.
Like the little notes you stick on the kitchen cabinets some mornings before you leave for work. Or how you sneak up behind me while I'm making a sandwich and give me a great big bear hug. Or how you automatically start rubbing my feet when I stretch my legs out while we're watching TV on the couch.
Then there are the big things. How you constantly tell me you love me. How you make me feel like I am the most important person in your life and the only girl alive. And how you prove time and time again that you would do absolutely anything for me.
I can only hope that I make you feel even half as valued as you make me feel when I walk into the home we've created to find you and Toby waiting to greet me. Those are some of my favorite moments of every day.
And how do you say thank you for that? Especially on the "clock" anniversary? I know we agreed not to get each other gifts because anniversaries are about celebrating each other, not putting that love into a monetary possession, but if I could, I'd buy you a whole Best Buy store. THAT's how much I care. (And just THINK how many of those gadgets come with internal clocks.)
I know in the grand scheme of things we're still newlyweds, so I guess it's not silly for me to hope that we still feel the same way about each other on July 30, 2055. I can't wait for the weddings we'll attend that summer. I envision us cleaning house with bouquets on all of the anniversary dances.
But who knows what the future holds? Just yesterday you and I were remarking how much our lives have changed in the past two years. They probably won't ever change that drastically in such a short period of time ever again.
I guess I don't care where we are or who exactly we become -- just as long as you're the one constant in my day-to-day life. And that we sometimes wake up holding hands like we do now.
Happy anniversary, Jer.