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A Toast to Ten Terrific Years

№259
~4 minutes
InLife

    In which I reminisce about the ten years I’ve already spent with my wonderful wife, talk about how we first met and look forward to another ten years.

    Today, ten years ago, Rebecka first turned up on my doorstep.

    Little did I know at the time, that the woman in front of me would become my best friend, wife, lover, confidant and my most trusted advisor.

    I mostly remember thinking, “Huh?” as I opened the door to this person whom I had only really met once before.

    Needless to say, I wasn’t expecting her.

    We sat in my couch and talked for a few hours and then she left.

    And then, a couple of days later, she showed up again. And we talked some more.

    It didn’t take long before she started leaving clothes behind as an excuse to return and I, in turn, couldn’t wait for the next time she would show up.

    Because she never called or texted ahead of time I never knew when she would show up. It made sense though, since she had a boyfriend who she lived with and she never knew when she would be able to get out.

    But once she did show up, it felt like time stood still as we talked for hours.

    Soon enough the Christmas holidays came around, she spent the night and I told her that she had to decide between her boyfriend or me. I would be okay with whatever she decided but I couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving.

    It took another month—which felt like forever, but in hindsight I would have waited much longer—before I helped her pack a few bags so she could come and live with me.

    In my tiny studio flat.

    Rebecka.
    The first few months when we finally got to be together are a blur.

    For the first six months her mother wouldn’t even acknowledge my existence.

    She thought I was only interested in the thrill of the chase and that I would lose interest as soon as she had broken up with her boyfriend.

    I of course knew better. I suspect her mother might have picked up on this as well, by now.

    I can still remember the first time I tried to hold her hand—terrified that she would reject it—during the cold winter night, her hand fitting perfectly in mine. I also have tiny hands.

    I can still remember her scent seeping into the deepest corners of my mind and never letting go.

    I can still remember the first kiss we shared.

    Time keeps standing still.

    It seems we struggle for a lifetime to become whole. Few of us ever do… Most of us end up going out the same way we came in—kicking and screaming. Most of us don’t have the strength—or the conviction. Most of us don’t want to face our fears. Darren Aronofsky; Kent Williams, The Fountain

    Sure it hasn’t been great all the time. Some times have been terrible. We have argued and fought. We have misunderstood each other. We have said things we both wish we could take back—and we have apologised a thousand times for all of them.

    But most of the time, it’s been pretty terrific getting to know this woman who turned up at my doorstep.

    Before you know it, hours become days. Days become months. Months become years.

    We move from one flat to another, more times than I care to count. We make Lucien, the most adorable little bastard you could imagine. We get married. We pack a bag each and move to another country.

    We heal some scars. Make new ones.

    It still feels like time stands still when we talk.

    I you.

    So, here’s my toast, not just to the ten—sometimes terrible but mostly terrific—years we’ve had, but to ten more.

    And then another ten years.

    And another ten.

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