December

I suppose you want to know what happened between December and I. I suppose you want to know how our story ends. You should know that she never did change. The arguments never stopped. She always stole the remote control and changed the channel to boring shows and she never replaced the towels in the bathroom. She was a terrible cook and managed to burn even toast and she talked in her sleep. She listened to stupid music and never let me drive.

Despite all of this, on our one year anniversary, I told her I had never loved anyone like I loved her. I told her she drove me crazy to the point of tearing my hair out and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I told her that I liked it when she wore her hair out and she was running late because that meant that she didn’t have time to put on any makeup.

I told her that she looked the best when she was wearing a smile and that I liked the way she made me feel like I mattered. I told her I liked it when she woke me up when it was still dark outside, and the way she kissed me in the mornings. I told her I liked the way she danced, and the way she sung in the shower when she thought I couldn’t hear her.

And lastly, I told her I loved her with everything I had, and that I’d never want anybody else. I told her I wanted her forever and I asked her to be my wife right there in our apartment on our leather couch with the purple cushions. And she almost cried and then she was saying “yes” over and over again, before tackling me in a bone-crushing hug and kissing me the hardest anyone has ever kissed me.

On our wedding day, I promised to put the toilet seat down and she promised to share the remote control and we’ve been arguing about it ever since. And you know what? I’ve never been happier.