Silky Anniversary

Today is my 12th wedding anniversary, and it is indeed cause for celebration.

I am happy to report that I continue to fall more passionately in love with my husband Michael over each passing year. The guy friggin' rocks! He unconditionally loves me, whether I'm fat or thin, pimply or pretty. He has unwavering belief in my ability to actually make it as an Author, Speaker, and Bringer of the Mojo. He puts up with my whiny PMS tirades with nary a complaint. He gives me a quality boning whenever I need it. He is, quite simply, THE SHIT.

Twelve year anniversaries are symbolized by silk, and I find that it appropriately represents my latest marital milestone. Silk is beautiful, comforting, luxurious, and eminently touchable, just like my hubby. Silk makes me feel good when it's rubs against me, just like my hubby. Silk makes me feel special and worthy of great things, just like my hubby. As a child, my favorite dessert to have was a piece of French Silk Pie from Bakers Square, and not coincidentally, French Silk is an accurate description of the man I married. On this special day, I honor the silky goodness of one mister Michael Andre Rose, and the way that handsome devil continues to make me all school-girl giddy inside.

It feels good to have this kind of love in my life and in my heart. Believe me, it wasn't always this way. In fact, I had many lonely years and troubling fears before Monsieur Rose happened into my world. (I could have easily won First Place in a Frog Kissing/F@#king Contest.) True love wasn't something I felt I deserved much less was able to acquire. I would see happy couples and think, "That will never in a million years be me." Yet somehow, through luck, healing, moxie, Divine Intervention, and some good ol' fashioned ballsiness, I found my way into Michael's heart and he into mine.

Today I am bursting with love, joy, and gratitude for my own personal Prince Charming. There isn't a day that goes by where I am not grateful for him. (Even though there are some days when I want to thunk him with a 2x4 when he forgets to take the garbage out. Again.)

Not bad after twelve years of marriage...