I never wanted to get married. Not to say I had anything against the institution, I just didn’t see myself as a wife. This was a pretty good situation when I met this guy almost seven years ago. I hadn’t grown up anxious to fulfill my role as a bride nor casting around for a groom. So I didn’t harbor any doubts, when Paul proposed to me in front of Space Mountain, about my mad desire to say “yes,” or that he was my one.
I try not to Zenbaw on this blog too much (/wave at forumites), but it’s true that the past five years have been the most difficult period of my life. Many awesome things did happen, but meanwhile the speed and energy with which I was used to going through life slowed, eventually down to a trickle, due to circumstances over which I had absolutely no control. This isn’t, unfortunately, that uncommon of a story, and in these stories relationships frequently unravel as well.
Paul, however, has stood by me through all of this, as boyfriend, fiancé, and husband. And through all this I understand how incredibly lucky I am that with everything I’ve lost, I’ve kept the most important thing in my life, and he is by my side every day. Tomorrow it will be two years since we got married and if I believed in a god, I would be thanking him for giving me such a wonderful friend to be my husband.
So instead I will thank my husband for giving himself to me. I love you, Paul.
