Before I met Tom, I didn’t date much. As in, only when the planets aligned in all known and unknown galaxies. I don’t know why, maybe my Amazon-goddess height scared guys off. Maybe it’s ’cause I wasn’t Jewish (I grew up in a very Jewish community and the phrase “if only she were Jewish…” was seriously said about me…or so I’ve heard). But who knows. And who cares.
Today Tom and I celebrate 11 years of marriage. Holy Hell, yeah, eleven years. We’ve been together almost 14. The numbers are getting frighteningly close to being half my life.
I love this man. No, wait, if I’m writing this, I want to scream it to the internets. I LOVE THIS MAN! He is a good man. His sense of humor is what attracted me to him, and keeps me coming back for more. He is sweet and loving and a wonderful father. Sometimes when I hear other women talking about their husbands I realize how good I have it and how damned lucky I am. I know I’m lucky.
We have our difficulties, as marriages do, and we work on them. It ain’t fun, but we do it. The fun is in doing things together. Tom is my best friend, the person I want to hang out with, to do things with (rated G and not), to experience life with. I am so grateful he and I found each other.
Forever. No matter what.
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