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I Still Do



In 1976 I met the woman I’d eventually spend the rest of my life with. She was huddled in the corner of the drama club meeting at Schaumburg High School, and I was curled up under a desk in the front row. From the minute we met, from the first time we spoke to each other, we found ourselves and we found our futures. We had to go through the darkness, several times, and we had to find the light in the midst of a world that hated us, cursed us, and declared us illegal. It’s been a road filled with obstacles and it’s been a road as smooth as glass. Nothing’s ever only one thing. And just recently, I’m reminded when I look at her, that who we are is due to where we’ve been.

I’m not one to hold on regrets and I’m not one to subscribe to Everything Happening For A Reason. I don’t believe in absolutes in either alley, so for me, part of it was destiny, and part of it was blind luck and hard work. Being married is the best thing I’ve ever done. Being married is about sharing. It’s about being here even when you don’t want to be, and it’s about leaving when you’re told to. It’s about changing, especially when you think you can’t, and it’s about staying exactly as you were, so dreaming doesn’t become a chore.

I married Chrisanne and she married me. It was an equal agreement.

And this was something that had to happen. We couldn’t help it. After all those years of calling each other, and going to movies, and sharing secrets, and holding hands, we finally got to a point where it was simply no use. Pretending it wasn’t happening seemed futile and a waste of time. And if there was something both of us hated, it was wasting time. So we proposed to each other at two separate times, and said yes to each other at two separate times. And from that day, almost 16 years ago, I’ve never once regretted asking or receiving. As both of those are gifts, and as both of those mean something huge and profound. I am honored and shocked she still looks at me the way she looks at me.

I’m one of those really lucky wives: I still feel blessed.

And after all this time, after all we’ve been through, and after all we’ve done to and for each other, every single day I wake up and I see her amazing face, I find it difficult to catch my breath. I can’t wait to see her. And when she’s away, I can’t wait until she comes back.

I am always in the middle of a love that’s shocking and bewildering. I have absolutely no idea what’s happening most of the time. I’m not concerned with figuring it out. I couldn’t care less. All I know is whatever it is that guided me toward my wife, I’ll never live long enough to say thank you. And that, more than anything else in the world, is what keeps me moving forward; the endless amount of time she and I have no matter what anyone else says.

Here’s to my wife, and all the time in the world.

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