Three Years.

Three years ago, I married my best friend.

A lot has happened in the past three years. Mark and I have had amazing experiences together, including trips to Costa Rica and Charleston/Savannah. We witnessed his grandparents celebrate 60 years of marriage with a heartfelt vow renewal ceremony, and saw friends get married. But we've also had our lows-- we both lost our jobs, we dealt with job changes, career doubts, and the stress of letting a friend move in with us. That first year of marriage was admittedly much, much harder than I was ever expecting, but we came out of that period stronger than before because we learned to fight for each other, and to love each other even when it's hard. Or, more accurately, especially when it's hard.

During this third year, the best thing I've learned is to really relish the small moments. The simple gestures that would go unnoticed by outsiders, but that speak the secret code of our relationship language. The subtly sweet, mundane, everyday love.

I recently expressed a little envy at a former classmate/Facebook friend of mine who bought a gorgeous, expensive downtown condo with her boyfriend, decorated it in designer wares, travels somewhere exotic for every single one of their birthdays and anniversaries, and just got an engagement ring that's practically a quarter of the length of her finger. And while it's sometimes easy for me to get distracted by glitz and glamour, when it comes down to it, you couldn't pay me to trade in my life for hers. I honestly love the life that Mark and I are building together, simple as it may be.

I love how we can have as much fun staying in as going out. How willing he is to be my sous chef in the kitchen, even if it means I'm a little bossy and/or controlling. How he says "Zoo-y Bechamel" instead of Zooey Deschanel because it makes me laugh, every time. The back rubs, forehead rubs, foot rubs. The tradition of our Saturday morning walks to the farmer's market, even if it's just to get fresh donuts and not a single piece of produce. How we allow each other to read the dictionary when playing Scrabble and usually pretend we're just checking the spelling of a word. When he randomly suggests baby names he likes (for future/currently non-existent children, in case that's not clear). How much fun we have watching marathons of TV shows on DVD. Random trips to the grocery store for cereal that end with us running around the store for the ingredients to make butterbeer (this happened last night). How excited he gets over his hobbies (disc golf and floor hockey), even if I poke fun at how nerdy they are. When he lets me use the giant, fluffy bath towel, since we only have one. Our daily (and excessive) exclamations about how comfortable our bed is.

These kinds of memories don't get as much glory as the international trips or the meals at Michelin-star restaurants. But these moments make up our everyday lives, and are special because we are together. Mister-Pister, I'm lucky to have you by my side. I can't wait to see what memories--big and small--the future holds for us.

{Photo Credit: Olivia Leigh Photograhie}