Dear Scott (Year Six)

It's that time of year when I start to think about Scott, and myself, and our relationship, because hey, that's what you do on anniversaries.

So here's my letter to you, Dear Scott, and I hope you enjoy it (and feel the same way).

Dear Scott,

This year marks six years that we've been married, and about eight that we've been together. I can't even comprehend this. Before you, my longest relationship had been about seven months long, and OH BOY did that end badly, but I digress. I love that we've been together so long. I know that six years doesn't seem that long to some people, but it's made me feel like we've always been together, and I forget what most of my past has been like.

This past year has been hard for us. We had a few little spats, but nothing major, and, as usual, they were just about misunderstandings, not actual problems with our relationship. No, our relationship has never been a problem, and I am so, SO grateful for that. I feel like you and I have something more special than most other couples, and find myself wondering very often why other people can't be like us. We care about each other. We never talk badly about each other. We give each other enough space, and let each other have hobbies we enjoy. We talk every day about everything under the sun (even politics, sometimes) and I tell you I love you every chance I can. What a wonderful relationship we have. I hope it always stays this way, and gets even better with age.

This year has been hard for us in other ways, such as with money and with physical ailments. Your back continues to hurt, and now you have a broken foot, and seriously, can't we please catch a break? But we're still here, alive, and we've never wanted for necessities, so really, I can't complain. Challenges seem to be good for us, because our relationship seems to keep getting better and stronger. I love you more and more every day, and watching you be in this pain (and having withdrawals from trying to get off the medications) is heartbreaking and I never know what to do to help. I wish I could take all of the pain away from you and just deal with it myself. It's not fair that I've been relatively healthy this year and you're stuck with the problems.

We continue to not have (or want) babies, and that also makes me super happy. Like, crazy happy, just like you are, I'm sure. I feel like our little family, with you and me and Buster, is complete and perfect just the way it is. And babies are so expensive, and sticky, and our house would never be as clean as it usually is now.

I love that you love me despite my flaws and shortcomings. I love you, too, even though you're not perfect, though I can't think of anything specific right now that bugs me about you. In fact, you never bug me at all. Okay, I take it back. I love you in your near-perfection. And you love me even though I'm full of crazy over here. THANK GOODNESS for medications that keep me level and keep this relationship as stable as it is. I know I still have the occasional mood swing, but you're so on top of that shit. I mean, you know I'm there before I even know I'm there. And you know exactly how to take care of me and help me through  the rough patches.

You work hard, and you're sweet, and generous, and loving, and I don't know what I'd do without you. You are my very favorite person in this whole world and I feel lucky that we found each other, because Babe, you are just so awesome.

Now let's go celebrate. By eating something tasty. And then going to bed early, because we're 90 years old like that.

Love you always and forever and even after that,

Anna