|We build the Matrimonial Pizza, with my brother officiating and|
my Chick of Honor watching. My brother heads off to the PNW this week,
and this beautiful patch of Vermont is for sale.
What. The. Serious. Fuck.
I have been married for two years now. Best Guy and I will be celebrating four years together this September (ironically, on the same day my Chick of Honor is getting married herself).
Married two, together four. Four fucking years.
Again I say: WTsF.
|The 4-course meal I made for our anniversary: Pesto Chickpea Salad Buschetta,|
Field Greens Salad with Strawberries and Balsamic Vinaigrette; Cilantro Mashed Potatoes,
"Facon" Crusted Tofu, and Double Chocolate Baby Bundts.
To be honest, I still have to remind myself to call BG "husband." It's just so... foreign. But also, I just don't often think about the fact we're married. We're a bonded pair. No one with a heart would ever try to separate us into different homes. And if someone did try? Well, people would look at them aghast and with horror and disgust.
Because you don't separate bonded pairs. Ever.
It feels like everything that happened to me before BG happened to someone else. I am my best self now that I am with him. Everything else is...gone.
It all needed to happen so I could be the person I was when I first met him, and so I am grateful. But it's all very much in the past now, and no longer needed or necessary. I am here, now. With the person I am meant to be with. And it is good.
|So very, very good.|