Yesterday was fifteen years.
As long as we’ve known each other, Bryan has kept track of the age of our relationship. Four months, he said, that’s longer than I’ve ever dated anyone else. What do we do now?
And now fifteen years. And who would have thought that we would have spent the better part of our evening at the elementary school open house? But that’s where 15 finds us; smack in the middle of the whirlwind of three kids. And I love it, I love the life we’ve found, with all the ups and downs, dirty laundry, school supplies, and temper tantrums. Most of all I love that he still loves me even though I still throw them.
Later last night we went to eat dinner with our kids and the Eubanks, who share our anniversary (which is just a little bit of magic to me). It was cool enough to eat outside, and we laughed at how hot we all had been, years ago when we were all getting married. We looked at their wedding pictures, which made me think where IS that wedding album of ours, anyway…?
Last night I told him that sometimes it seems so long that I can hardly remember a time without him right there in it, making me laugh even when I don’t want to. And other times it seems so short that I can’t believe that all this life, this family, these friends have grown up all around us. I know, it’s not rocket science. It’s a terrible cliché.
But it’s also the truth.
and again, who let you get married when you were twelve? seriously…