15 years

If, 15 years ago today, the day of my (outdoor) wedding, it had been as humid in Austin, Texas as it is today, I would have cried. It's possible I may have also passed out. And I may have sweated more than it is decorous for a bride to sweat (er... perspire.)

I'm not saying it wasn't warm. Or that the sun wasn't glaringly bright. Or that I didn't get sunburned on the left side of my neck and back. Or that certain parties weren't concerned about the icing on the cake. Or that someone wasn't overheard saying, "It's Africa hot." I'm just saying it wasn't as humid as it happens to be today. So I didn't cry.

We had a good time. We didn't pass out. We got married.

The cake survived, and it was super yummy.

I mentioned to a co-worker today that it was my 15th wedding anniversary and the question came, "So, you still love him?"

Yes, I said. Yes! YES! I love him! I like him. I still love him. I am in love with him. He is my best friend. He makes me laugh. He makes my breath catch in my chest. He is my champion, my protector. He is my hope. He is my completion. He is me and I am him. And yes, I still love him.

Well ... all I actually said aloud to my co-worker was the emphatic, don't-even-have-to-think-before-answering, Yes! But I'm pretty sure the rest was implied.