August 18

Fourteen years ago you cried.

I was doing just fine until I saw the tears escape your eyes, but when I did, their counterparts suddenly welled up in my own. My father's tears as he walked me down the aisle touched me, but they did not cause me to cry. Your tears as you promised me forever? Well... they did.

We didn't know then that the first year would be hell, and we had no idea that we would want to call it quits. We couldn't foresee the traveling that would cause friction, or the challenge of blending the Eastcoast with West. Standing there that day, feeling in love, we knew so little of what it would take to face the next fourteen years together. And still, the magnitude of the undertaking moved us both to tears. Somehow we knew that what we were doing was huge and brave.

In those years we have brought 3 incredible children to life; we've lived in 9 different houses; buried 2 fathers, 2 faithful dogs and a wonderful kitty; we've survived distance, differences and difficulties; started a business and now merged with another; lost a couple babies and let go some dreams. At times we have argued, and despaired, and given up. But more times we have listened, and believed, and loved.

And we know now what we didn't know then. Love is fluid and fragile, just as it is stable and strong. It sometimes demands more than anyone can give, and other times gives more than anyone can receive.

Loving you is harder for me than I ever dreamed possible, and infinitely more rewarding than I dared to hope. And being loved by you is something for which I shall be always, always thankful.

Happy Anniversary, Smith. I do... still.