A little over two years ago, I received an email from a guy. The interwebs claimed we were a good match and I thought he was pretty cute, so I replied. He wrote back – not with one line, but with paragraphs. A few letters back and forth confirmed what I already knew – this guy was smart, funny, straight-forward and kind-hearted. A couple weeks after that first letter, with butterflies in my belly, I agreed to meet him for a drink. I was late. He thought I was standing him up. I wanted to hug him hello. He offered me a handshake. It was an interesting beginning to a first date that turned into hours of talking and a prolonged good night kiss.
Today, that guy is my best friend, my cheerleader, and my rock. He makes the best meatballs I’ve ever tasted and will passionately talk about politics for hours. He has the most amazing work ethic I’ve ever seen, whether it’s working for an employer or tackling projects around the house. He has old school manners that make my grandmother swoon. He’s independent and yet always makes time for me. He can make me laugh like no other, has an incredible amount of patience, and spoils the dog rotten. He gives great advice and gently reminds me that I need to come back to earth sometimes when I’ve spent too long with my head in the clouds. He’s all this and more and as a result, I feel like I’m the luckiest girl in the world that we crossed paths and I get to call him mine.
Over the last two years, we’ve made an amazing home together and no matter where I am in the world, he’s the one I can’t wait to come home to. Happy anniversary, baby. It’s been two years of bliss! xoxo
(*an infinite amount of thank-you’s to The Nik, who took these incredible photos of us in our backyard. Hugs!!)