Because every anniversary deserves one of these

I never imagined this time would arrive so soon in our lives, but it has. And here we are, the only married couple amidst our current local circle  of friends. It’s what you get for marrying young I suppose. Too soon, like some folks said. But did I choose to get married young? Yes and no. Yes because six years ago, when I met the husband, I knew its what I wanted. And no, because sometimes, decisions don’t take making. They just get made. They fit without difficulty. Perfectly, without having to try. Without coaxing and cajoling. Without trying too hard.

We’re still as different as chalk and cheese. The wonders of cohabitation are many. And 4 years down, I wonder if some parts of our personalities have collapsed into one entity. I’ve seen couples who lose themselves into each other. Giving up personal interests for the convenience of doing what the other prefers. Changing eating habits for the sake of the other. Accepting change, adopting a new lifestyle to match the likes of another. We’re no different. I think we too have done bits of it all. And yet, there will always be those few things that make is starkly different. Differences that meld together in the beginning. Differences that you gloss over at first. Differences that are inconspicuously hidden, beneath a sheaf of blinding love. Until enough time has passed. And you realise the person you married is not perfect.

But he’s pretty darn close. And just for that, you couldn’t be more thankful.

Today, four years down, I know there’s no hiding from the fact that we have our fair share of differences. Dissimilarities, if you like. And the ease with which you once said I’ll-love-you-no-matter-how-when-or-why begins to tug at your heart. You want clarity, not the fuzziness of young love. You want answers, not glib sweet nothings. You want concrete plans, not wishful dreams. And of course by you, I mean me. (All this third-person talk flying around is convenient when thinking aloud.)

Thankfully, in the times of uncertainty that I have found myself in, VC has been all that and more. The clarity to my nebulous, aimless thoughts. The firm no (or yes) to every unanswered question. The man with a plan, for me being, well me. Just the way I am.

So this is to the boy who woke me up with a kiss on my nose this morning. To the boy with the bottomless pit of patience and endurance. To the boy who makes a dozen meaningful decisions, for every irrational decision I’ve made. For all his common sense, in the face of every unthinking word I’ve uttered. For the immense love and understanding, for every time I’ve given in to an unnecessary bout of tears. For the twinkle in his eye, every time I’ve dream aloud.

For always being up for a ride. For giving in to my every plan. For holding me back when I need it the most. For letting me go when I need it the most. For believing in, supporting and loving me. For stealing my blanket when its cold, but bringing me hot water bottle when I’m sick. For holding back on every splurge, and then going all the way just when we really ned it. For being my perennial guinea pig, patiently tasting every loaf of bread, until I have get it right. For quietly eating every cake I’ve baked. (Even the healthy ones!) For the restraint when I go overboard, and still dreaming big, bold and wild, when I’m not. For giving me wings to fly. Or not, if I so wish. And just for being around.

This one’s for you VC. Because the truth is, you are so many things. Too many things to note (she says, after having done just that). The perfect sounding board. The black-or-white reflection to my everything-is-gray outlook. The yang to my yin. The calm to my every storm (and you’ve seen a fair share of those). The unruffled influence on my every restless move. The stoic, collected rock to my crumbly, emotional core.

The perfect holiday-mate for a week in Thailand. The perfect sous-chef while making phulkas. The perfect business manager to my life’s plans. The pins and stripes to my paisley-smacked life. The perfect teammate for every game.

So here’s to the differences. For the not-so-perfect love affair. For making us who we are. For showing us what it is to be a team. For making us fit so damn good.

Happy anniversary my dumbass.
All my love, always.

47 thoughts on “Because every anniversary deserves one of these

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    1. Its almost time for the next anniversary, but thanks anyway :P
      I can’t remember clearly if there was beer involved, though knowing VC I dont doubt that there was some kind of alcohol involved for sure..


      1. *tries to play. For all the times men make fun of us women choosing gadgets for their colour, I would like to present him and his guitars as my *in yo face* case study.


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  11. Love, love love this post girl! Happy anniversary, you two! God bless. I have never met you guys but R and I feel so much more connected to you guys that we do to a lot of other couples we know in real life. Sigh, such is life. (And if you are wondering, yes – I read out your posts to him :p)

    Much love, Haathi!


  12. R

    You know what happens when you decide one fine day to update your 2 blogs with like FIVE posts? Missing out on the most important, most aww-inducing post, happens!
    Happy anniversary, again. Such a lovely, lovely post. Here’s wishing you guys all the happiness in the world and some more.
    ‘Pins and stripes to my paisley- smacked life’ sounds so beautiful :)


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  14. This was lovely to read :) Happy anniversary to you both! May you stay awesome and celebrate many more to come.

    Also, dear R, about this: “For quietly eating every cake I’ve baked”, I want to ask you who wouldn’t? :D


    1. Hahaha, dude he’s worried (and not without reason) that we’re getting super fat and unhealthy and mostly wide around the midriff. Also he claims he’d rather I bake less frequently and make the cakes fancy and decadent, rather than make 2 homestyle pound cakes a week! Yeah theres really no pleasing anybody. So I just do my thing, and he quietly eats.


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