Last week, Rand and I crossed a milestone. I didn’t realize it; I was sitting at my computer, bones turning to dust, when he shouted from the bottom of the stairs, “HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!”
“Holy crap. Twenty years!” I shouted back at him. And I ran down and hugged him, and we kissed, and we did this odd little dance while shouting “TWENTY YEARS” over and over again. It’s a huge chunk of time to spend with someone, especially when you’re 41. Nearly half my entire life, and all of my adulthood. I try to imagine a life without Rand, try to imagine a world where we hadn’t met, but it’s impossible. There’s no way to It’s a Wonderful Life this. It’s like try to separate paint colors after you’ve mixed them together.
Two decades since our first date, when we sat across from one another at a candlelit Italian restaurant