almost forgot

I need to move Saturday’s money, seeing as though it’s already Sunday. Is it technically cheating if I got a less expensive drink because it was flipping freezing this morning and I haven’t been able to locate my gloves in over a month?

Didn’t think so.

Since it’s 12:22 am, I need to wish a very happy Jesus year birthday to my better half (pictured above with the crazy ear-licking dogs). Also known as my baby daddy, spousal equivalent, significant other, partner, whatever. We’ve lived together for a year as of yesterday (which still feels like today, since I haven’t gone to bed yet). I’ve known him for almost two, thanks to craigslist and a wittily-worded personal ad, if I do say so myself. I’ve lost two parents since then, gained a baby, a house, a fantastic lover, a best friend, a family, and a new lease on life. We knew well before we met face-to-face that we were uncannily, scarily alike, both in the way we think and the way prior relationships have left us damaged.

That’s a good and a bad thing. Good because we now know what’s involved in maintaining a healthy relationship, especially with kids involved – we’re up to two and counting (there was one before he came along, in case you’re doing the math on your fingers). Good because we know what our dealbreakers are and that we can let the little things slide, most of the time. Good because we can appreciate exactly how awesome the other one is, especially in comparison to the past.

Bad because the vestigial tails of the old relationships haven’t evolved out of existence. Specific facets of my self-esteem took a beating in my twenties and I don’t know if I’ll ever fully recover; you were beaten down until you couldn’t take it anymore and started dishing it out better than it came at you. In theory, we both know our self-worth – in practice, defensiveness darkens our doorstep regularly. Add our Celtic tempers to the mix and the fireworks can be horribly spectacular.

You once lamented that my innocence was wasted on someone not worthy to have taken it away from me. I am a much more cynical, skeptical person than I was at 21, true. But I also know that had that relationship not occurred, there would have been no lesson learned. I value our communication so much now, even when it’s painful and tearstained and punctuated with metaphorical daggers. Our relationship is not an easy one, but it’s ours. It’s full of chemistry and passion and desire and a firm grounding in the knowledge that we are all each other has, it’s us against the world, and I can’t think of a better person to have my back.

You’re an amazing man, and I can’t believe that you’re mine. But I’m not letting your ass go anywhere. I love you. Happy birthday.

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