Joe and I got married two years ago today, which seems strange because it doesn't FEEL like two years have come and gone. More like two weeks, maybe? But, if you believe the calendar, which I suppose you have to, it's definitely been two years. I checked my math.
I think it's safe to say the honeymoon is over, as they say, because this morning, instead of gently waking my husband with a kiss and pleasant words like, oh, say "happy anniversary," I said, "hey, good morning, Max threw up. Twice."
And yeah, I already shared this on Facebook, meaning I'm stealing from myself for blog material, but I think, according to The World of Ethics or whatever, that that's OK. And even if it's not, it's my blog and I'll do what I want.
Like a total narcissist, I went back to read what I wrote about my wedding when it happened, and then I tried to read what I wrote about it last year and it turns out I didn't even write about it last year because apparently I don't really love my husband. Sorry, Joe.
I really wanted to take a trip for our anniversary but it wasn't in the cards this year. We celebrated quietly, with dinner at one of our favorite restaurants and a movie about time travel. Safety Not Guaranteed may seem like an odd movie to see on your anniversary, but it was strangely and unexpectedly appropriate. This movie was comprised almost entirely of quirk and heart and DID I MENTION TIME TRAVEL? I wish I could find the quote from the end of the movie, when one character asks the other why he'd want to travel with a partner, because the answer was basically the same as the answer to, "why would anyone want to get married?" and what better words to hear when you're celebrating your anniversary?
Today, I took a moment to think about that day, two years gone, and compare my happiness levels. Obviously, this isn't really fair, because, as I'm sure you'll agree, that day was TOTALLY FUCKING AWESOME and today is, well, Tuesday. But if I examine the amount of happiness in my body (concentrated, like OJ!), you know, really delve into it, I'd say I'm happier today.
Don't get me wrong, our wedding day was amazing. It's just this blur in my mind of laughter and dancing and MUSTACHES AND HOGWARTS, but that kind of happiness isn't sustainable because you could straight up DIE from it. Today's happiness is quieter. Calmer. But it's there. It's what I feel when I go home at the end of the day, to the house we've made our own, to be greeted with excitement from Max and general disdain (hurtful, but comforting in its predictability) from Phoebe. And then Joe comes home from work and our happy little family is complete. I feel like I can safely say that Joe and I have only added to our weird little repertoire of inside jokes and I can't wait to see what the next year will bring. Probably poop jokes and fart noises. We're quite predictable that way.