Seven Years. The one with the anniversary

We have once more reached that time of year when I get to remind us all that we used to look like this:

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And now we look like this:

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It’s been seven years since we laughed through the snow and made our vows of ever, always, only yours.

Seven years and we are still learning the dance of each other. We spin and turn and move our feet in time, out of time, stumbling, laughing, crying and the music plays on.

Seven years of weaving in and out of the patterns of each other. Riding through the storms. Panting for breath on the mountain tops gazing at the view. Trudging through swamps and meandering through sunny meadows.

Seven years of reading each other’s gaze. Holding hands. Knowing smiles. Feet touching on dark mornings as children lie between us.

Seven years ago I gazed through the door of the adventure we were about to embark on. Mountains and valleys lay ahead with paths unfamiliar. We didn’t know what lay ahead and still we grabbed each other’s hands and set off together.

This year has felt like wading through fog. I have no idea when it will lift. I don’t know when the black dog who has cast such a long dark shadow over this year will up and leave. I don’t know how long healing delayed will take. I can’t see much beyond our hands right now.

We are still holding hands.

We still have the bubble in front of our eyes of clarity. This moment. We are here. Together. Held on course by our shadowy guide who has said he’ll get us through this grimness into the sun again.

Seven years and I love more than ever waking next to my beautiful, brave, wonderful husbandface. He has had to face hideous demons this year and I would love more than anything to take the pain away. I ache for the day when we will stand free on the verge of the next great adventure and I am glad we have a guide in this one who walks through the valley of the shadow of death with us.

Raise your glasses to the amazing husbandface. My favourite and my best.

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