Before I met Grey, the very thought of marriage made me feel as though someone was smothering me with pillow. It repulsed and disgusted me; I likened it to a death sentence – but only way more boring because even prison inmates have lots of random sex with multiple partners. Not that I wanted to have a jail bitch or even lots of loveless hook-ups, but I couldn’t seem to get past seeing marriage as punishment of sorts where you were forced to kiss the same person for all of eternity.
However, when Grey swept me off my feet as though he were my knight in shining tapered sweatpants, so did my ideas about getting married. All other guys paled in comparison and I just knew Grey was the ONE and nobody else would ever do. Suddenly, instead of equating white wedding gowns with orange prison jumpsuits, I began happily daydreaming about the day we became husband and wife. Luckily, Grey seemed to feel the same way and I didn’t have to stalk or blackmail my way into his heart or burn locks of his hair while dancing naked under a full moon to make him love me; it just all worked out.
Now, six years after our wedding day (which is frankly blurry due to all the valium and champagne), I love Grey more than when I first met him. I thank my lucky stars on a daily basis that I married someone who is so intelligent, funny, kind, and aging so darn well. Six years has given us a heck of a lot of happiness, a healthy son, and another little bundle of trouble on the way. Cheers to that!
Happy six, Captain Sexy!