When we started dating, Devon promised me 90 years together. I guess he assumed we’d both live to be about 125.
Today marks three years since he promised me that. This week also marks two years that we’ve lived together.
In some ways, it doesn’t seem like it’s been that long on either counts. And it definitely hasn’t felt like a prison sentence.
I also won’t say that every moment has been fantastic and magical because that wouldn’t be real life.
We’ve had our problems and challenges; we’ve had disagreements and been upset with each other; we’ve gotten pissed off at each other for the silliest shit ever. But we deal with it, we get past it, we apologize and forgive each other; and we move on.
And then we have a great time together. One of the perks of dating your best friend is that there is literally no one in this world that I have more fun with than Devon. No one can make me laugh as much as he does and no one can keep me as calm as he does. He knows how to calm me down without making it seem like he’s doing it (if that makes any sense).
I enjoy our life together, even in the rough moments. We grow stronger every year and are still learning about each other every day. We’ve got each other’s back through everything and have no problem telling the other one about themself when they get out of hand.
There is just no one in this world that I’d rather go throough life with. And that makes me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.