Monday, Chris and I celebrate one year of marriage. The optimist in me wants to say “one year of wedded bliss,” but anyone who’s a regular human knows that that’s…a bit of a stretch. Honestly, going into this, I thought, “I’ve got this marriage thing in the bag. No problem.” We had been together for four years when we got married (and had lived together for three of those years), and I assumed that we would just continue on, business as usual.
I was wrong. Marriage is wonderful and amazing and glorious. It’s also hard, frustrating, and aggravating. I cannot imagine being married to anyone else, nor do I want to be. I have never loved anyone like I do my wife, but on the flip side of that coin, no one frustrates me anywhere near as much. (I just read her this, by the way, and she laughed — because she agrees with me, I assume.)
Tomorrow, it will be one year since we stayed up till 2am decorating, since I walked to that glorious coffee shop in Washington the next morning and got us breakfast, since I stood in front of the sink and mirror and ate leftover wings, naked. It’s one year since my beautiful bride applied two people’s makeup, since our mothers saw these strong women they raised pledge to love each other forever, since we walked up the aisle as we walked down it — holding hands, facing it together.
One year since I cried through our ceremony, one year since I gave my only tissue to her crying sister (we were both birthday twins and crying twins that day), one year since my brother whispered to me, “You’re adopted,” during our ceremony. One year since sneaking outside with our Santa hats for Christmas-card pictures, one year since strolling through the rain with our umbrella, and one year since holding Chris in my arms to the very, very true words of “I belong with you, you belong with me, you’re my sweetheart.” One year since hearing our close friends do speeches and readings, one year since dancing it up with them to anything but Dave Matthews, one year since maybe a few people saw a ghost in our hotel.
One year since yelling at Chris’ cop brother for stealing doughnuts, one year since partaking in the most glorious cookie table of all time, one year since sneaking up to our room to get money so Chris’ sister and our friend Aubrey could hear some Justin Timberlake. One year since throwing one of the most epic parties known to mankind, one year since a killer afterparty at the hotel bar, and one year since walking down the hallway to the bridal suite, smiling at all of the custom “do not disturb” signs on the doors of the wonderful people who chose to spend the night there and celebrate with a delicious brunch the next morning.
Happy one-year anniversary to my beautiful wife, Christina. I am simultaneously so happy that you married me and sad for you that I’m so hard to be married to sometimes. Thank you for making me continue to want to be a better person and a better wife. I do belong with you; you do belong with me; you are my sweetheart. There is no one else I would want to muddle through this life with.
Here are some of my favorite pictures from that day.
This was the best day of my life, and I hope that you’ve all gotten that sense from these pictures.
Happy my first anniversary, everyone.