A year ago today, I put on a dress, prayed to the angels and asked you to marry me. Thank you for telling me to get up off the floor and giving me an empty box. It’s the best empty box I ever got. And this coming from a girl who collects empty boxes.
Thank you for sitting with me on the stairs. And sometimes dragging me backwards down them. Yes, I trust you. With my heart. With my coffee. With my life.
Thank you for letting me blast country music. Sometimes. Thank you for seeing me in songs and my grandmother’s face. And in your future.
Thanks for singing back to me.
Thank you for holding my hand. And gently pulling me out of darkened rooms. Thank you for staying with me in the morning. And for letting me fall asleep sideways. Most of the time.
Thank you for giving me butterflies. And pancakes. And cheesecake. And vanilla tea. And visions of what our children will look like. And for letting me name them. Maybe.
Thank you for loving me more than penguins. I know what that means. And it means the world to me. Because I love you more than you love penguins.
Thank you for playing cards with Dad and sitting in the back of my Mom’s car. And sleeping in my cousin’s basement.
Thank you for helping me surprise Aunt Nancy, and for not thinking I was crazy. At least not for doing that.
Thank you for helping me leave a pebble with Aunt Karen. She told me it was you. Always you.
Thank you for letting me write. Sometimes about us. Sometimes in public. Thank you for letting me nickname you something no one else calls you. OK, a few things no one else calls you.
Thank you for emailing me in 2009. And for doing it again when I wrote you back. There are 250 of those emails. I know because I read backwards yesterday. Because I can.
I’m sorry I told you my friends were the non-crazy kind. I might have lied about that, you’ll realise now. Because they are. But they say that being with you is the smartest, truest thing I’ve done.
And that is the truth.
Love (online and offline),