Two years

As of yesterday, Bud and I have been dating two years. It has been the longest two years of my life. And the shortest. That's the only way I can think to describe it, and believe me, usually I can describe things baby. But greatest, worst, heartbreaking and hearthealing, the gloomiest days combined with the ones that feel like sunshine bursting out of every pore - those are the things I can say. For the first 24 years of my life I heard people describe relationships that way and it was irritating. Something that should be joyous and fun should not also be boring and maddening. But I guess, it's like being single - lots of fun mixed with lots of loneliness. Only now it's lots of fun mixed with compromise. And I know this will come as a shock to most of you, but I do not like compromise. Only without it, I would not be dating someone who can pick up a cockroach with his bare hands and make a mean cornbread and beans. Or, someone who patches the walls when, upon lifting down the wall decorations, finds all the holes I made when trying to put them up. And tried to hide from him until we inevitably moved and he found them. And then gave me a lecture on how to find a wall stud. Again. While I hummed to keep the sound of another home improvement talk out of my ears. Or someone who can make a bad day good just by showing up. A guy who walks in and makes my shoulders relax because Hey, I know you! And you understand me! And you might even laugh at my jokes! And you will stick around even after everyone else has rolled their eyes and slowly backed away. Our anniversary celebration consisted of the clinking between a small kitchen glass of cheap chardonnay and a Miller Lite can. And then passing out after the demoralizing experience of moving. But we did it together, and let me tell you, moving is SO much better when you have someone to do it with.