It seems like a drop in a bucket.

Eight years ago, we met. Six years ago, we moved in together. Four years ago, we got married.

He knows me better than anyone. I like to think that I can read him, too. We have inside jokes, weird sayings, and even hand motions that no one else would understand. We finish each other’s sentences.

He called me from work last night at midnight to tell me happy anniversary. When I picked him up at 1 (he’s working extra hours this week) we gave each other Anniversary High Fives. His parents called this morning from “up the track” (they each have an atv and on their days off they go riding around in the wilderness) to wish us a happy day. My parents too (although they aren’t roaming the wilderness).

We’re going to do the bulk of our celebrating this weekend, when he’s off work and rested up. I just wanted to mark the day by saying that I am so glad that that day happened, four years ago, and I will be every day for the rest of my life that I met this amazing man.