To my wife (to my muse, to my editor, to my best friend) on our Anniversary

Dear Carly,  

This day last year was the best day of my life. The intermittently-rainy day when we were married in front of our family and friends will always be ingrained in memory. I was a bit nervous when you didn’t proceed down the aisle at the advertised start time, but I knew you wouldn’t keep me waiting too long.

I’ll never forget the relief; the large lump that I swallowed when I saw you at the door. You looked beautiful, and a little bit more bronzed than you did earlier in the week. I can remember my smile: unrelenting, unwavering. I could feel nothing – not even the broken toenail that I’d smashed in a game of drunken mega chess the previous evening – but happiness. 

I can remember our first dance as a married couple. My word, did that get silly quickly. As I swung you around in circles, I can remember thinking "Please don't trip over. PLEASE don't trip over." I still don't know if I was thinking about me or you, but it's a miracle that no one was hurt or embarrassed.  It did set a good tone for the evening ahead though, and I'd do it again.

I’ll never forget the lazy, cold nights we spent in Dayslesford or Melbourne either. The seemingly-endless run of visits to Minotaur, Myer and Chocolate Buddha hinted at the beginnings of a perfect union. You never tired of my routine (food-comics-food-comics-cider-comics-food), if anything you seemed to enjoy it. 

The return home wasn’t easy. Don’t get me wrong: I know we couldn’t have sustained a year of binging in our favourite city, but it would have been nice. Am I right? I was still unhappy at work – my unfulfilling occupation demanded even more of my time – but I knew I could return to you and bask in the novelty of calling you “my wife.” Throughout all of the challenges that we've faced this year, that was one thing I could always do if I was feeling down.  

You still support me, even in spite - or possibly because - of my non-committal responses to life's big challenges. Mortgage? "I'd rather travel." Kids? "Do dogs count as kids?" Car? "I can't even drive." Job? "Actually, my wife (teehee) is the breadwinner." Even when I did try and venture from my comfort zone, you stood with me (or at least dropped me off at the train station). 

Not that 2011 has been all doom and gloom, mind you. We both ventured into a foreign land for the first time and had an absolute ball of a time indulging in cheap whiskey, cheaper (most of the time) food, and more shopping than could normally be recommended for a couple considering the purchase of a house. Back on home soil, we also had many breakfast/lunch/dinner dates with generous helpings of coffee/alcohol (depending on the time of the day). My favourite nights, however, involved lounging around on the couch watching Japanese game shows alone with you (I triple dare anyone to find a more compelling game show than Ninja Warrior).   

One year on , and I'm still as in love (if not more) with you than I was as I waited for you at the makeshift altar; wearing clothes that I'd only sourced the day before, hands fidgeting, wondering what the future would hold (read: when would you appear). I'm so glad we decided to conform to the social norm that is marriage. My life has been all the better for it. 

Still never been happier than I was in this picture.

Here's to a hundred more years together. If there are to be any more than that, Science will finally have delivered the invincibility, super strength and adamantium claws that I've always wanted. 

I love you. 

Regards,

Tristan

For Science!