The mister and I have been married for ten years. A whole decade. Not bad for only knowing each other a few weeks before we decided to take the plunge, and taking that plunge less than three months after we met.
The last few years in particular have been really tough. Buying a house, having a second child, multiple surgeries, separating from the Army, transitioning back into civilian life and dealing with the realities of his disabilities, starting a small business… It’s been pretty intense. And right now we’re near the end of flipping our first house, so money is tight and nerves are frazzled and our anxiety disorders are flaring up, but even with all of that, there’s no one else I’d rather be with.
I genuinely enjoy him as a person, not just because he’s hot (he is), but because he’s smart and thoughtful and nice and talented. He has his flaws; everyone has flaws (he has put up with all of mine for ten years, I’m pretty sure that makes him a saint). But it’s hard to focus on them when he has so many excellent, exceptional qualities that make me feel like an incredibly lucky woman. And I don’t think I could have picked a better partner. We work so well together, shore up weaknesses with our complementary strengths. It’s nice to know there’s someone there who has my back, and it’s nice to have his. I like being married, and I like being married to him.
It’s been a great ten years. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for ten more.