I stuck with my ex-husband for almost 15 years, and I never remember being excited for an anniversary. Back then the occasion usually consisted of going out to eat and having sex.
That was it.
It didn't feel special.
But my boyfriend and I have been together for three years next week, and I am super excited for our anniversary! Interestingly enough we don't live together. We don't share children. And both of us are weighed down by commitments to our own communities, kids, and careers.
This is not a conventional relationship.
And yet we are committed to each other. I'm over the moon happy for our anniversary celebration.
This is a man who knows how to touch and how to listen. His eyes are my sunrise. His voice is my home. His mind a playground where I can spin and swing and slide. I hear the sound of the ice cream truck, and then the two of us look up and run through the mulch and over the grass to the vendor waiting at the curb. A pop sickle is thrust into my hands: sticky and purple. It melts on my tongue the way my stress melts each and every time we spend time together.
I didn't used to believe in soulmates.
Now I do.
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