Word on the street is that our whole lives are about to be flipped upside-down and inside-out and never again the same. I tend to trust the masses so it must be true. And I wanted to make sure I said these things to you before that moment.
I dreamed of you before I knew you. I loved you the day we met. I will never stop loving you. And I am nothing if not stubborn until the end. The 10 years we have had together have been a gift that I think about often and smile. It feels so greedy and selfish and deliciously indulgent. When others were choosing to start families earlier, to speed things along… I predictably wanted to freeze time. And we will never have to say that we didn’t travel enough, didn’t have enough bottles of wine on a Friday night – just us, didn’t sit on enough dates talking about who knows what and never running out of things to say that seemed so funny, stark, poignant, serious, illuminating and heartachingly beautiful in their mundaneness. We slept in ten years of mornings, stayed up ten years of nights, and answered only to one another. I could do it again for another decade. The story of us so far feels like one of those lazy river things where I never want to get off of the raft. But we like roller coasters too. So apparently that’s where we’re headed.
I expect our decade of heat and friendship to help us find those adult glimpses in the chaos of kids and buoy us as we go along. We are moments away from bone crushing exhaustion and almost suffocating elation. And I know we’re strong and ready and excited for it. I cannot wait to meet our baby and see what our love looks like in human form. But you’re still the guy in my life and I will never, ever stop having a crush on you. We didn’t need anything else to be happy, which means our child is wanted instead of needed. Lucky him or her. Lucky us.
(the best I could find had subtitles…)