The Year You Stayed Mine

I keep thinking about the way we used to fumble through those early days, unsure of everything except that we wanted to be near each other. Now another year has folded itself into the stack, and somehow the wanting hasn't gone anywhere. If anything, it's quieter and deeper, like a river that stopped rushing and started being certain about where it's going.

I love the ordinary rhythm we've built, the inside jokes that only make sense to us, the way you still reach for my hand in the car. Another candle on the cake, another twelve months of choosing each other in ways big and small. I'd pick this life with you over and over, and I think that's the most romantic thing I know how to say.