February 1, 1999 was the happiest day of my life at that point, and the second happiest ever, after the birth of my son. Kellie and I did what we could with limited means: we bought her an asian-inspired white dress/pants combo, got a cake from Giant, and bought some liquor for a little party we had that night. We tied the knot at a courthouse and went out to Denny’s with Chad afterwards. I took the week off from work, and the two of us drove down to North Carolina, stopping at every hotel we could find along the way with a hot tub in the room. Not the world’s most amazing wedding and honeymoon, but we were crazy and in love.
Growing up the weird, awkward, geeky kid that I was, I never thought I’d get married. I just assumed that I’d never find anyone who would put up with me. Let’s face facts: I have some good qualities, but I’m easiest to accept in moderation. But Kellie loved me.
She loved me from the first time we spoke. I made a joke in this stupid bar where we met and she smiled, but covered her mouth, and I told her not to hide such a pretty smile. That started things off well. Later we were chatting in a Denny’s, and I quoted something from True Romance, and her whole face lit up. That was it for her: she was hooked.
I sincerely hope that I can spend February first every year with the same mixture of sadness, nostalgia, love and anxiety that I did today. I never want to lose sight of all the good and bad times we had. I never want to forget that once in a lifetime love that we shared.
Happy anniversary, sweetie.