The Most Wonderful Woman In The World Saved Me — Now She’s Mine
My wife is special.
She is mine.
I have chosen her.
From the first moment I saw her, I knew she was special.
We have known each other for about 17 years now, this year we will celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary.
We got married just before our daughter’s first birthday.
December 11, 2013.
That reads 11–12–13.
We thought it was funny.
The marriage proposal was anything but classically romantic. Somehow in between where we were planning for household errands for the next few days, I said:
“We could actually get married.”
She smiled, looked at me, gave me a kiss and said,
I was happy.
Then we went on to take care of our household planning. Relatively unspectacular, that is.
We had both known it was coming eventually anyway.
Some things are as clear as day between me and my wife without us having to lose many words about it.
We made an appointment at the registry office for 11–12–13 — it was a Wednesday — and called key relatives and friends during a car ride.
It was a small fine wedding, first at the registry office and then some coffee and cake at a mutual friend’s house.
Most of the invitees came.
They all found time that Wednesday morning, even though we didn’t tell them until a week before.
We can yell at each other.
And that’s good.
Communication between the two of us has been going very well on the whole.
Although, of course, we have many misunderstandings.
I guess that’s part of it.