An “Adult” Relationship

It was a great anniversary, although a fairly no-frills one. We were on our way home from a business trip, and had the better part of the day free. We had a great lunch in a small, but charming bistro. We walked in the park, sat in the sun, and got caught up on each other’s lives. At one point, my sweetheart paused and remarked “You realize our relationship is old enough to vote.”

Yup, it’s now been eighteen years, really good years. Our first years together were spent flirting across the room during band practice. At university, when I’d been up all night studying, he’d wake me around noon with a sub sandwich and a cup of tea. We’ve been through four degrees, three houses, four continents, and a dog. We’ve crammed as much wonderful relationship stuff into eighteen years as two people can. Our relationship has definitely grown up.

It’s ironic that what’s got us here is our habit of being distinctly immature. Eighteen years has taught us that it’s okay to admit to being hooked on cartoons and cheesy talk shows. We’ve learned that bed heads and wrinkled pyjamas can be charming. We still hold hands and tell stupid jokes. We’ve found that an argument is officially over when one of us starts giggling. Our couplehood may have reached adulthood, but we as individuals have fought hard to remain the same dorky teenagers that we were when we hooked up.

A long time ago, we danced together for the first time. The song was “Forever Young” by Alphaville. Hmmmm…good advice.