It was on this evening, exactly nineteen years ago, that I met Andy in the quaint, old-fashioned, universally-destined way that people used to meet: at a gay bar. Back then that was how things worked, and if you didn’t happen to be in the right place at the right time, you might have missed out on what was to be written in the stars. In that respect, we lucked out, and ever since then every day has brought an abundance of adventures and riches that have only gotten more wonderful as the years tick quickly by.
In many ways, we’re still the same guys from that rainy Sunday evening at Oh Bar, just hoping for some peace and happiness and someone with which to share it, yet in other respects we are decidedly different. Both older, and hopefully a bit wiser, the years have taught us about each other, and ourselves in the process. There’s no one else I would rather take this journey with, no one who could be as supportive and protective of what we’ve created together. Sometimes – most times in fact – it’s the little things of getting through the day that comprise true love. Those little things gradually build into something more, if you let them. They become a tapestry of love, a blanket made of affection and kindness, with more good-will and appreciation building upon them, until after all these years we can look back with wonder at what a beautiful life we’ve made with each other.
I’ll keep it to that this year, because some years it’s better to be quiet about things, and then we’ll begin planning for #20 in 2020…
