Mine is the daytime, yours is the night
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spatch and I have been married seven years today. It is not like our anniversaries of years past, but the snow is spiraling beautifully into the blue dusk and we have a plan for dinner and our anniversary gift of the year appears to be copper. And even in this strange year, we are still here.
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Thank you!
(Was I a GODDAMN BABY at my own wedding, faced with your own seven years I just had to do a bunch of math, I am going HOME.)
(I couldn't make it because of grad school; you were at least out of leading strings.)