Today is Brian and I’s (sorry grammar police) 13th anniversary. We kissed for the first time 13 years ago and that’s what we base the start of our relationship to be. Here’s a pic from my Sr. prom. Holy crap I was pale. The camera flash didn’t help either.
Good lord I wish I was that skinny again, HAHA. But that means my boobs would go back down to a double A and I’m not down with that.
When I see this pic, I think of all the things that were about to happen to us. Like getting lost on Sugarloaf mountain (traumatic, but bonding….or maybe that already happened before prom? I am not sure), driving down to the Jersey shore and sleeping in the huge trunk of his station wagon so we’d be first on the beach the next morning, weekend visits during college where we’d cram in a small tiny bed and not even complain about it, and moving to California and getting our first place together. We were inseparable, and still are.
And one of the things I really love after more than a decade with each other, is that there are still things we learn about each other. Like little stories from our childhood, things that we never mentioned before. Or experiences we had in high school. Or close encounters where we almost met but not sure if we would have dated then (like if we met when he still had a bowl cut. Not so sure about that).
But he is my person and I am his. And I’m not really sure what he sees in me, but not a day goes by where I don’t remind myself of just how lucky I am.