Two years married and I have some things to report. First, married life is still as awesome as I thought it was a year ago. And second, I’ve never been happier, and you know I don’t use the word happy lightly.
I thought I should apologize for the next paragraphs, but nah, I’m not sorry. So I’ll warn you instead: Cheesemaxx ahead. :D
Photos from our anniversary date at La Creperie Boheme
Five years of on-and-off LDR and 2 years of marriage later, I’m still so in love with this guy.
Two years ago I married my best friend, my most avid and loyal suitor, the guy who wrote me love songs and spent too much dollars on overseas calls.
Last year I found him to be the kindest and sweetest person in the universe, a loving husband, a ministry partner and leader I’ve grown to look up to and respect, my personal nurse who held my hand through pregnancy, childbirth, and all the big and small milestones in between.
We’ve seen each other through ups and downs, and I have to say, even in his bad days I sometimes find him adorable still, knowing that his crankiness can easily be solved by one thing—food.
And then he became the cutest Daddy ever, a hands-on caregiver to our twin girls, their favorite playmate and Veggie Tales buddy. I didn’t know it was possible to love him more until I saw how he’s like as a father. It feels like getting to know a new side of him, and I realize that it really is possible to fall in love with the same person over and over again.
He’s the one person in the world I can tell my dreams and thoughts to without the fear of being judged. He’s my voice of reason, my prayer warrior.
He’s the person I dream with, laugh with, pray with. Nothing has felt more right than him.
On the day of our anniversary
..he came home with these:
And although I’ve told him many times to not buy me flowers anymore (the simplest bouquet costs almost as much as a pack of diapers or a box of formula), I realized that it still made my heart flutter the same way it did 3 years ago, when he was sending me flowers from half-way across the world.
The flowers have already dried, but this small card that came with it remains tucked in a place where I could always see:
Dear Riz, Thank you for loving me for the past two years, and the time before that, and the time after today. I love you then, I will love you always. Bud.
I didn’t write him a card. Unlike him, I couldn’t put it all eloquently in one sentence, how thankful I am that he chose me, love me.
After our anniversary dinner the night before, we spent the rest of our anniversary at home, no time and budget for an out-of-town getaway like last year, but mostly unable to celebrate too far from the girls. Still a beautiful day, nonetheless.
The fondness never ends
Last Sunday we went out to buy diapers. He left me in the supermarket to pay for the diapers while he crossed the street to buy us some take-out food. I waited for him to return, and as I watched him cross the street, under the rain, holding an umbrella with one hand and a brown paper bag with the other, I held my breath for a moment and my heart leaped in its cage.
This is the guy I married? Di nga, I’m married to this guy? Wait, I’m married? To him? I smiled, mighty proud of my good taste (ha!), but mostly relieved, and thankful to God that I ended up with this guy and not with anyone else. The fascination, and the occasional disbelief, never ends.
Happy anniversary, ex-boyfriend. You’re awesome. I love you.
2nd Wedding Anniversary, Part 2.