Twelve Years

Today the hubby and I celebrate twelve years of marriage. 

Twelve years of kisses, hand holding, and warm embraces. So many good times and sweet memories. Shopping for rings. Giggling through wedding vows. Buying our first piece of furniture together. Times with good friends,  and with family. Trips, where we drank, ate, and explored together.  The birth (the actual labor and delivery)  of our son. A moment I count as one of the most romantic moments of our lives together.  

Twelve years of the same arguments. The same misunderstandings, the same hurts. Years of doing little things that make each other crazy, me forgetting important items like a wallet, a phone, tickets, or directions. Him saying things that make me want to punch him in the face.  (I don't, I just want to sometimes). Big fights, little fights, sometimes tears.

Twelve years of every days. Monotony. The same old, same old. Ups and downs of course (as listed above) but mostly just the same old shit.

You might think I'm complaining, on the contrary I wouldn't want it to be any other way. This every day stuff is great, because I like my husband. He cracks me up. He adds spice to my life and he's my partner. I enjoy spending days at home with him and just shooting the shit. We have a lot of fun together. 

I love my husband so much it's ridiculous really. I'm so sappy, and so head over heels in love that you probably want to punch me in the face. I still get excited when I know he's on his way home to me. Don't be jealous, we want to kill each other sometimes too. Just like every other couple. There's nothing special about us, except we know how lucky we are and that this is it. 

THIS IS IT.