Deux.

Photo credit: Martin Dallaire

Today is our second wedding anniversary.

And we are approximately 4589 miles apart (as the crow flies) with an ocean between us. S is scheduled to return tomorrow (unless, you know, transportation strikes in Greece prevent that), so we are going to celebrate after he is back home and after we decide what we want to do exactly. The only thing nailed down so far is the exchange of anniversary letters/notes, which is a tradition we started last year.

It's hard to believe it's been two years already. Sometimes the wedding just doesn't seem very long ago. I mean, we only recently got some wedding photos printed, put in frames, and hung because I finally became convinced that it needed to be done before our second anniversary rolled around. And I must say that I love wandering by and stopping to look at the photos. Unfortunately, the same determination did not carry over to the (still non-existent) wedding album. Maybe I can manage to do that before our third anniversary? Oh, and we still want to take a (belated) honeymoon sometime. (Though I wonder if we can still even call it that, this far into the game?) Now that I can come and go from Canada without the risk of being turned away at the border, we can start thinking towards this more concretely...

Twenty-five-and-a-half months ago, I was in Chicago, on the verge of moving to Québec and marrying S. It was an intense time of change. Since my move, we got engaged, got married, had a 10 month-long back-and-forth-between-two-cities living arrangement, did our first international travel together (Italy), made two more (in-country) moves resulting in us finally living in only one apartment together, established our combined home together, tried to potty-train our cat, prepared and submitted my immigration application, waited through seven months of unknowing which made for a challenging winter, and then received news of my approval for permanent residency while on our second international trip together in Paris this past May. That was monumental in that it removed the undercurrent of fear that I had felt when I would think about the possibility that we could be separated from each other. It also felt like I finally could begin putting down roots here outside of the walls of our apartment, and start integrating more with the community. I looked for work and then got two jobs, which I started this fall. When I think through the last 24-ish months that way, I realize that these first two years of our marriage have been chock full of change.


But despite that, it's felt somehow stable because we did it together. The best thing has been just living and doing normal day-to-day stuff with my love who is also my best friend. Sometimes I still just can't believe how fortunate I am to have found the person I want to share my life with—and we even get to live in the same place! (Maybe this never gets old for people that go through years of long-distance?) There are times when I can't get over how fun it is just to hang out together doing normal things, and it feels like being at summer camp.

Two years feels more substantial somehow. Kinda like being in my thirties feels different than my twenties, in a really good way.