This year, my husband and I celebrated eighteen years of marriage. We have outlasted the restaurant where we had our first date by about a decade. We have more and more fine lines gathered around our eyes, but he still loves me deeply. And I remain convinced that I’m the lucky one.

Poetry: Love Story
We were young and lovely by compare,
Two kids at a restaurant that’s no longer there.
And when you laid a claim to my naked finger,
Like children that diamond bid our gaze linger.
Barely grown ourselves we set out together,
Down the long-winded road that promised forever.
.
Not long our home grew adding mouths to feed
And a shove to maturity of which we were in need.
Pain and joy of babies with their messes and drool–
Daft we would be, to name it anything but full.
Now our son, on cusp of greatness towers,
Our girls, their beauty and virtue flowers.
.
Twisted, tangled is the life that lies behind us now
Tonight we drink deep the love born from solemn vow.
Thousands of nights together, nothing do we lack.
After all these years with you, we still hold nothing back.
Deeper, richer in each blemish to the slightest fine line,
I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.
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