He might not remember that the first of his birthdays we spent together, we had been engaged for two days. It sort of eclipsed the whole turning twenty three thing. We met friends downtown and there were lots of "Congratulations! Let me see the ring! Oh...and happy birthday J."
Looking back, the past eight years have been my favorite. The best parts of my thirty one years. He likes to kid because I turn the next age two months before he does. I'm the older woman.
So today we're the same age again. It's eight years later. The ring is still on my finger. Be still my heart.
Love you, J.