Laugh and love hard

Today's blog is going to be lighthearted. Past two blog entries have been really dark for some reason. But today is our anniversary, so I have to celebrate. I'm posting the pic below

See...I laugh. I laugh a lot. When I'm around Paul anyway. We crack each other up all the time. Even when times are tough, we still end up laughing. He gets my dark sense of humor. His laugh always starts out sounding surprised before settling into genius truth about my observation (that sounds like I'm bragging, but you haven't heard some of the things I've said so you can't know how true it is). Like he's tickled pink that I'm clever. 

It's weird but I tend to make other people laugh but few people can make me laugh as hard as Paul. I love hearing him giggle, chortle, and roar with laughter. I can almost feel my soul smile when I hear him. It's one of my favorite sounds. I try to make sure I hear it daily. 

We've been legal for 7 years as of today. But we've been together for almost 13 years. It doesn't feel like it though. It feels like a blink. Okay, not a single blink but a couple dozen blinks and then here we are. Older, pudgier, balder but still just as happy. I think that's a small miracle. 

I don't really have any advice or tips on how to have a happy marriage. I think we stumbled on the magic by accident. And I'm not going to analyze how it works, but it works. It shouldn't work, not on paper, but it does. I hope it keeps on going. I hope writing this post hasn't jinxed anything. 

I hope my siblings get this kind of love. I hope they find someone who accepts them as they are. Someone who adapts to how they'll change and grow as people. I found a partner who treats me like a queen. He literally says that "You're my queen." 

I am so grateful to have found such a good man. I just hope I can mirror him and be as good a woman. 

Dammit, this post did not turn out lighthearted. How the hell did I get all deep again? Ugh. Okay, I give up. I'm just introspective. I can't help it. I'm never gonna be superficial. I can't do it. It's like contorting myself into a yoga position where I find my face squashed against the mat and the rest of my body flailing in the air.