Yesterday Jen and I celebrated our thirteenth anniversary as a couple, and our eighth year of being married.
Jen is the only person I have ever been in love with. Saying that I cannot imagine my life without her does not come close to describing how much she is a part of who I am.
I was young when we met (so was she). We have been through a lot together, both lovely and difficult. We do well together. We both strive for calm and peace. Our differences complement each other, rather than cause conflict. I know that I have her unfailing love and support, and she has mine.
Having children has shifted our relationship. We don't have as much time for us as a couple as we once did, and I miss that, but I'm also so immensely grateful for the opportunity to parent with her. She is selfless and loving and patient and generous and silly and thoughtful. All the qualities that I admire in her are at the forefront when she is with our children.
Last night we went out to celebrate. A low-key event at a nearby restaurant. Food and drinks and conversation without interruption. Not anything terribly novel, but a nice evening nonetheless. A nice way to acknowledge our thirteen years together and to start into the next one.
Happy anniversary, my love.