Five years ago, my friend Ms. D brought along a handsome gentleman to a party I hosted in my home.
My home at the time was a funny little apartment, with an odd layout, no logical bedroom and a huge deck. I liked to have people over, though, and Ms. D thought her friend would enjoy my company and the company of our friends. I played music and served up appetizers, booze and conversation. Ms. D’s friend was nerdy, kind, funny and cute. He was someone I wanted to know better. We parted that night without any fanfare, but we asked our mutual friend for screen names, email addresses and contact info. A romance blossomed as the town I lived in celebrated the Apple Blossom Festival.
That charming man became part of my life as I moved to a new apartment, then came with me as I moved to yet another apartment in a city far away. Our building got foreclosed and we moved again, to the place where we lived as newlyweds. It was a funny old garden unit with radiators on the ceiling, pipes in the hallways and bookshelves stuffed with DVDs, comics, pottery and poetry. We’ve moved again, to another place with a huge deck, where we can entertain friends. We have built a life together, with highs, lows, adventures, moving trucks and a lot of geeking out. But through it all, we have each other, no matter what we face. It’s a marriage in which I can happily type on my keyboard while I hear the rattling of computer-game-gunfire from the room next to me, in which he comes home to dinner and exclaims, “That smells so good!” and in which we are very, very content. I’m thankful for that every day.
Happy third anniversary, Hubbs. Without you, I’m nothing.