What four years of marriage has done to me:
Made me more married.
Made me older.
Four years ago today, I enjoyed the most amazing rainy day in Georgia.
And what is marriage? Sure, marriage means you have ridiculous pet names, jokes people get but don’t find funny, agreed side of the bed, a partner to run the errands you don’t want to…
I don’t know how what love or marriage is for everyone, but I know for me, it means Andrew’s happiness is crucial to my own.
I don’t divulge too much mushy relationship stuff on here, get your fix now.
To the hus:
10+ years of knowing each other, and here us crazies are, celebrating 4 years of marriage.
We’ve laughed more than we’ve cried. Travelled more than we sat still. Challenged each other more than we’ve accepted the norm.
Each year of marriage has shown us something different about the other, pushed us to love something about the other even more. Or maybe we’ve finally succumbed to accepting the quirks, mwhaha. I never really liked The Simpsons before you, and now tragically my humour has gone to crap as we quote ad nauseam from the show. And your knowledge of pop music and reality TV has grown substantially.
In the sandwich of life, you are my peanut butter.
My boo. You’re my best mate. Biggest Supporter. Problem-Solver. Personal Chef. Personal Trainer. Cheerer-Upper. Shoe Putter-Onner. Fellow Explorer.