Twenty-five years ago today, I married my high school sweetheart.
We met in kindergarten, which I don't really remember. As far as I'm concerned, I've always known Greg.
He still surprises me. He still makes me smile like no one else.
He knows me.
And he loves me anyway.
There were many tears at our wedding---the sad kind of tears from people already predicting our divorce. We were too young, they said. Too immature. We couldn't possibly know anything of love.
A few years into our marriage, those same people said we were lucky our marriage survived.
Luck? No. We had many chances to walk away. Our choice did not create an easy path. Thankfully, our commitment and passion carried us through.
When I hear old people (who are now disturbingly close to my own age) discounting the love of youth, my eyes sparkle with secrets.
Let people say what they will. On your 25th anniversary, you can make a post like this one.
This love, this marriage, delights me. It was the best decision of my life.
Happy anniversary, Greg. I love you. I'd do it all again.