Six years strong

This week the bf and I celebrated our sixth anniversary. That’s 72 months, 312 weeks, 2,191 days, 52, 584 hours…okay, you get it:

We’ve been together a long dang time.

While we were driving down to Monterey in January [I know, still owe you a write up], I found myself looking over at him and marveling in the fact that we had been together for almost six years at that point, and for a few seconds, I kind of silently freaked out. Six years? SIX YEARS?! If our relationship was a kid, it’d be in the first grade! While I was freaking out, a sudden calm hit when I realized just how awesome this whole thing is.

Six years ago I was a skeptic, cynic and yet hopeful that I would have a love like this. I was doubtful it would happen, even joking that I would just settle for becoming a nun. That worked until I realized I wasn’t Catholic and so becoming a nun was no longer an option. Not that it ever actually was, but it was nice to have something there. I also was randomly concerned about my ability to being a girlfriend, as my relationships up until that point never lasted a month, and thus never required any real level of emotional support that a significant other typically provides.

But then I met the mister and things began to change. The transition wasn’t smooth, not in the least bit. We had a lot of learning to do about ourselves as individuals and us as a couple. I was no longer in a situation where I could think only about myself, which was incredibly difficult. Not that I’m completely self-centered but after 23 years of doing things my way, it was hard to step back and remember that my decisions were now affecting someone other than myself and that I would need to account for them. He had to adjust to someone with a very strong independent drive. There were new communication styles to maneuver around and expectations to meet. This was all so very new to me and incredibly overwhelming to me, that at times I felt that I was failing as a girlfriend.

Of course, I was not failing at being a girlfriend, but simply learning how to be one. Today, we still have our minor skirmishes but it feels so good to be at the point where I no longer am stricken with The Fear that any fight could potentially signal the end of our relationship, that we would work through it, talk it out and bounce back instead of simply giving up. It feels good knowing that I can think about our future and know that he’ll be there with me.

We’ve taught each other a lot of things and there are still many lessons left to be learned. Like, don’t touch or think of touching my stomach when it I’m nauseous or I might hurl. Or if he’s really serious about making sure we clean EVERY weekend. Um. Yeah. About that…

But through it all, he has been there for me and continues to stand by my side, to comfort, support, encourage and yes, even get on my nerves. I love him and he loves me.

Here’s to the first six years of our lifetime. I love you lovely.

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