Ten years.Thursday, June 28, 2012
TEN F*ING YEARS.
I know that, once you have a proper anniversary, you're not really meant to keep celebrating the anniversary of that time you agreed, in a dark corner of some skanky nightclub, that you should probably start calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend.
Already the date is losing whatever significance it once held, so much so that I would have forgotten it completely (it was yesterday) if it wasn't also my friend's birthday. After this year, we will probably let it sink quietly into oblivion. The last thing we need is another anniversary to keep track of. (Fin has already expressed his disbelief at the fact we will have been married for three years in June. Rightly so, since it's actually two years. In July. And so it begins...)
But something about ten years feels worth noting. A decade. You only get seven or eight of those in a lifetime, if you're lucky. And at 28, we've already spent a whole one with each other. There's something comforting in that, but it's also oddly disconcerting. Ten f*ing years.
Here's to the next ten, hubster. Bring it on.
This photo was probably taken some time in Autumn 2002. LOOK AT THE BABY FACES.