Yesterday was my wedding anniversary. Well, mine and Jason’s, given that we are married to each other and all that.
We have been married for eight years (together for eleven). It’s a pretty long time. I’m not usually very good at doing things for a long time. I tend to get quite bored and wander off. Even biscuits lose their attraction sometimes, which is why cake was invented.
Eight years married to Jason though. That feels like no time at all. It feels like we just met yesterday and also as though we have been together forever. As far as I’m concerned that’s a pretty damn good combination. It’s cake AND biscuits, and you can’t really complain at that.
In fact I think I love him probably more than mashed potato. So, you know, it’s serious.
I love him because he lets me be myself. I’ve never been more myself than I am when I am with him.
I love him because he sees exactly who I am, and he loves me.
I love him because even though I drive him crazy because I am bad with money, cannot add up, fear technology, ding my car every five minutes, shout like a fishwife and tell everyone all my secrets, he still loves me.
I love him because he can still surprise me.
I love him because life with him is never dull.
I love him because he is utterly ridiculous and he makes me laugh.
I love him because he is the bravest man I know, even when he doesn’t want to be.
I love him because he is the best father I know.
I love him because I trust him utterly.
I love him because he is home.