Saturday, June 6, 2009

Happy anniversary (for reals)

Our 11-year anniversary means that we have now spent 1/3 of our lives in marriage, wedded at the oh-so-young age of 22.

Looking back, it seems so implausible that we would feel confident enough to make that commitment. So much older and wiser now, it's hard not to look back on those naive little creatures and think: What did we know of love? What did we know of each other? We thought we understood life but were only beginning to scratch the surface of living.

But I love that we took the risk. I love that we had faith in each other, and hope in our future. I love that we didn't wait around for "certainty," for a few years of testing our compatibility — figuring out a stable career or sense of self, making sure that we knew what we were getting and giving in the bargain. We just gave of what little we had, what little we were, in trust.

We've been through a lot of things together, if not exactly better or worse, then at least thick and thin. We are have not come out of that the same people we were eleven years ago, but neither would I want us to be. I hope that at our twenty-second we are different people still: changing, growing, striving.

So I am not going to tell you the old cliche that I love you more today than the day we got married. It's true that I am more comfortable with you, connected to you, compatible with you, and bound up in you than ever before, but those things could just as easily be hindrances to real love.

Instead I want to tell you that I love you to exactly the same degree as I did when we got married: with the same sense of adventure, the same sparkling of the eyes, with the same hope, the same confidence, the same desire to leap into the unknown together. We had it then, baby, and by God we can hold to it still.

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