Two years ago today, I went for a late evening cup of coffee with a woman that I met on Okcupid. It was spur of the moment, and I am the type that needs planning. There are no spurs in my moments, but for some reason, that night was different.
I’m glad that I wore those spurs…not literal ones, metaphorical.
Two years later, we’re still together. I am forty years old, and this is the longest relationship that I’ve ever had. I’m not an easy person to stay with, but Katie has been by my side though everything, health scares, failed novels, surgeries, and the every day worries that every middle-aged person has. She is there for me, and I am there for her.
I joke that “I’m glad that she settled,” but she didn’t. She just found the person that fit. I’m a lucky man that it’s me.
Katie likes to say that I take care of her, but the opposite is true. She keeps me sane. She lets me be myself. She keeps my mind from kiting me off somewhere, and tolerates my massive geekdom, horrible puns, and bad habits. She’s not put off by my idiosyncrasies (even when I am), like “book brain,” where I get lost in a story idea mid-conversation. She gets me.
I love her madly. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. If I’m lucky, I will.
Happy anniversary, my love.