Fifteen years is a marital milestone, isn't it?
And I feel like this day (and you) deserve the most exquisite love letter.
But the holidays can really take you down when you have four young kids. And more than anything, I want to crawl between the flannel sheets I gave you for Christmas and watch a movie, while we devour the box of holiday Turtles sitting on the kitchen counter.
And you'd be as okay with that as I am.
Because we don't need to try when we're together.
It's my favourite part of who we are.
For the past week, while you've been on vacation, I have laughed at least once a day so hard that my eyes leaked tears—because we have an endless collection of inside jokes and the amazing ability to show one another grace and humour in the every day muck of life.
Two weeks before our wedding, I hobbled into a quaint shop in the town where I grew up and where we had plans to be married. As the sales person wrapped a gift for my mom, it came up that it was for our wedding.
When are you getting married?
In two weeks.
Oh my god, what about your crutches? Are you going to cancel it?
I had wrecked my knee a couple of weeks earlier, and the orthopaedic surgeon had already delivered the news I'd be wearing crutches as an accessory on the big day.
Still, I was silenced by her question. My best friend—who was with me—jumped in and answered on my behalf.
If you knew the guy she was marrying, you wouldn't have asked that question.
It had never (not for one moment) crossed my mind not to walk/hobble down that aisle to you.
Life doesn't have to be perfect, to be worthy of a picture.
And I don't have to be perfect, to be worthy of your love.
From the moment I let myself fall for you, I knew that would be true.
In 15 years of ups and downs, of my good side and bad side, of my successes and failures, I have always, always felt worthy of your love.
On our wedding night, in a room as quiet as the powdered snow that fell outside the window, I told our friends and family you were my mirror. And that whenever I stood in front of you, I saw the best version of myself.
You have never failed to hold it up when I need you to.
Even in the moments when I felt like I deserved to have you show me my ugly side, you don't.
When my anger or hurt or disappointment swells so much that I push and prod you to show me my flaws, you won't.
For 15 years, even during the hardest moments, you have given me a love and companionship that exceeds every wish or hope I carried in my heart before meeting you.
I can hear you in the other room wrapping up a game of hairdresser with the little girls, and I know you'll be making your way in here soon. And I'll be so happy to see you fill the frame of the door to our room, so we can lie close and demolish a box of chocolates and laugh until we leak tears.
Here are my annivesary words to you:
You teach me, you lift me, you better me.
You have filled my life with pictures.
Together, we are writing a story.
And in our story, you will always be the guy who gets the girl.