Three years seems like a funny thing to celebrate; the length of time that’s passed since we signed a piece of paper and started calling each other “husband” and “wife.” I prefer to think of this, instead, as our five year anniversary; the length of time that’s passed since you and I sat across from each other sharing a martini glass full of tiramisu, and secretly exploring within ourselves this funny sensation of getting to know someone our hearts have known forever, and wishing it would never end (the moment, or the tiramisu).
It’s hard to remember a time before that. When you were just this strange, handsome guy I barely knew, and our days and lives did not revolve around one another. Now we orbit each other like planets, swinging in perfect celestial orchestration around each other like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like we’ve been doing it for eons. It’s weird to look back on a time when your gravitational pull didn’t affect my path, and space didn’t bend and stretch around us. I vaguely remember my pulse quickening whenever you were in the room, and wondering what it would feel like to be held in just such a dance, in your arms. Now I know, and I know it every day.
But we aren’t held together by the forces of physics. We aren’t bound by some divine rite, or even by law, as much as our marriage license might disagree. The thing that holds us here, together in a sea of other stars, other people, other worlds, is us. Sure, there may be a magnet in my heart and a magnet in yours, but that is not all… we chose one another, for no other reason than we wanted to be together. And we continue to choose each other again and again and again, day after day, every day… for five years, and no doubt many more to come. Now that’s something worth celebrating.
Happy Anniversary, my love. My husband, my best friend, my star. I choose you.