handslive | Now how did that happen?

Seeing purplejavatroll's post about our anniversary, I feel obliged to chip in.

I remember:

shopping with you for the ring
sneaking out to pick it up without telling you
going out to The Crepery, the fanciest restaurant we could afford then
dance lessons
community halls in small rural communities where we were the youngest people in the crowd
losing feeling in my fingers during the photos
wishing it was just the two of us and an empty park and these other people would go away
standing in a closet with W and A talking about anything that came into our heads while I waited
hearing the string quartet playing Wedding at Trolheim (sp?) for the bridal march (It was the first time I'd heard them play it. We'd hummed it for their lead violinist over the phone and then she'd tracked down the sheet music. She got a friend to accompany her on the piano and taped a short sample to play back over the phone. So, we didn't know until the day if it was the right one or not. Not only was it right, I liked their arrangement better than the version we'd heard on CBC repeatedly that spring. And we don't have a recording of it or anything.)
watching you come up the stairs to the stage
having the JP whisper, "tell her she's beautiful" and me thinking "of course, do I look like an idiot?"
sitting beside you at supper and thinking this was the best way we'd ever thought of for telling everybody we loved each other
watching that top tier on the cake take flight and thinking it actually looked very pretty in the air
laughing with you
dancing with you
driving away in the truck, sparkles stuck to dish soap on the hood
the hike up Heart Ridge and thinking, even when I was freaking a bit, that you were the best person in the world to hike with
the cabin in Mt. Robson Park
the light in the morning
our first hike up Berg Lake Trail, and our useless hiking boots

I don't know if I'll ever be able to fully describe all you've given, shown, shared with me. I rarely feel as balanced and present as I do with you. Whether you know it or not, you've given me music and words where there might not have been any. I love you.

Now how did that happen?

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