Four years. Today is my and SB's four year anniversary. He already sent me lovely roses at work, which seemed to strangely surprise my boss. We have no big plans for tonight, but this weekend, we're going to Gadsby's. They're having carolers during the holiday on Friday and Saturday nights. It shall be tres cute.
It's weird thinking that it's been four years. Not just because it means SB and I have been together FOREVER (Who would have thought that I'd date someone four years and still not be married or engaged or planning to do either in the near future?), but because that semester doesn't seem like that long ago. I was in college, living in Collins with all my friends around me. That was the year that everyone lived in college. We had the Michelles in a room, Emily not too far, Whitney down the hall. I was still friends with Peggy and Clare. This would be the time of year for the Dicken's dinner, although junior year was the year the dinner kept being postponed until it was a weak copy of what it should have been. I was so happy then.
And now it's been four years. Poor SB has seen me go through SO much crap, enough that it really has screwed up my health. I lived in England for a while (I missed that year's Dicken's dinner, but exchanged it for a Christmas dinner in Hall where we all stood on our chairs and sang "Teddy Bears' Picnic"), finished school, graduated, tried to find my identity outside of being a student, moved home, moved away from home, got a job, hated my job, got another job, hated that job, too. And I am slowly learning to be happy anyways, even in circumstances that I hate. It's like we talked about in CSF once or twice (during the "fruit of the Spirit" session), joy is not dependent upon happiness. It's good that I'm learning this, because SB tends to feel that he SHOULD be able to make me happy, no matter what else is going on.
He has been with me through all of that and he is so sweet and tries so hard. And really. What more could you ask?
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