In the morning when I wake/and the sun is coming through/oh you fill my lungs with sweetness/and you fill my head with you/shall I write it in a letter/shall I try to get it down/oh you fill my head with pieces/of a song I can't get out/can I be close to you... -The Paper Kites "Bloom"
I feel like every year, I look back at what we've been through, what we've accomplished, what challenges we've faced and say "Damn, what a year." Every year has been an outrageous one, the past one was no exception.
We welcomed a screamy, sassy daughter and a gentle, giggly son into the world and faced our biggest challenge in leaving them in the hands of strangers for nearly three weeks. We spent every single day together for months. We moved across the country - we survived a cross country move together - and we did it in record timing. We argued, we loved, we cried, we laughed, we worried, we fought for this, for us, for our family, harder than any other year so far. I laugh a little, when I think about our first months, when I thought loving me through my flared jeans phase was a significant test.
Damn, what a year.
Antonio, I always wake up every day in love with the life we created - even when you wake me up singing Stone Temple Pilots in the bathroom at 6am when I can sleep until 6:30, when I need a break because the life we created is too overwhelming for me sometimes, through the nights we're not tangled up in one another, and through the days we are sometimes so busy we are only allowed to embrace for mere moments before having to go to work, to stop a baby from putting their hands in the toilet, or to run some errand.
Our life is still the only one I want.
I love you more than I have words to express, thank you for matching my determination, for the times I don't have to tell you that I need to sit in the tub for a couple of hours, or take a nap, thank you for reaching across the couch and holding my hand, thank you for all the little things you think go unnoticed, that make up our enormous world.
Happy Anniversary, Bunny.