Two years in,

and sometimes it still surprises and delights me that we're married.

Sometimes it's hard, other times it's fun, and most times, it's fantastic to have him around.

We drove in my little red car to our wedding dinner after I frantically packed in my wedding dress for our honeymoon--apparently I'm not much of the organized sort, and didn't think to do that before, oh, just then.  We stopped along the way at his parents' house; he ran in to drop something off.  The thought hit me so clearly: we're married.  My stomach felt light, and I was so excited to have him forever.  I also felt kind of silly because I was in my wedding dress in my dinky little car.  Life's funny like that sometimes.

I'm still glad he's mine.  He's my best friend.  I remember our first dance, how my cheeks were burning because everyone was looking at us, and I much rather would have been part of the party than the STAR of the party.  But in that moment, it didn't matter much because we were there, dancing.  And who really cared, anyway?  Not me, not in that moment.  So we danced.

Remember this?  I will tell you more about how we met... later today.  Lucky you... maybe?