Happy Anniversary, Mike. You remember the weekend we met… Chicago, 1986. Becky’s wedding.
Though I was so drunk that much of it is a blur, there are some things I remember very well.
You. And the feelings that swamped me the first time I saw you… That moment will never be forgotten.
…and kissing the asphalt upon deplaning in Houston. I’ll never forget that, either.
It took seven years for us to finally marry, but I’d change nothing, because it all led to the discovery that you’re the only man for me and the best man I know, period. Thanks for loving me, putting up with me and just generally checking my shit.
My other half, always.