One of the best boons life has ever given me: My husband. A reminiscing on our wedding day.

I waited a long time to find my one true love. I pined for him for years beforehand (not knowing who he was) but the truth is I wasn’t really ready for him until about a month before he walked into my life.  I still remember the energetic shift I sensed in myself at that time and I knew,  “Oh, now I’m ready.”  And then another curious and assessing feeling of, “Wow, interesting, I wasn’t really ready before. ?” Whether that had to do with the universal timing, when the stars would actually align for us, when he would be ready, I don’t know.  But I felt it.  I had felt this big love coming for a long time, and then one day, I knew I was ready.  And when I felt that, I knew that whoever he was, he wouldn’t be long in coming.

And sure enough.  Not to long after “we arrived.”

It felt like that. Like we both arrived.  Like we kind of both, and maybe suddenly stopped looking around all over the place, elsewhere for that something special we were both looking for– and our gazes, just ever so naturally, locked on each other.  It was over then. Really.  For anyone else.  Though I didn’t know it at the time.

We had the best date ever.  We had another night of hanging out.  In which he told me, “You’re not going to like me.  I fart and I listen to the radio.”  For real, he said that.  That’s how he is.  He says whatever he thinks.  (And in fairness I do sometimes have to turn that particular station off. 🙂 ) He considered whether he would jive with me as well, knowing I wasn’t a wiz in the kitchen like he is, a serious handicap in his book.

I wasn’t worried.  Truthfully, I wasn’t even thinking about a future with him at that moment but I could tell, and still can (ask him) bluster when I hear it.

Then he went away for nearly a month.  During that time we got the good old fashion courtship.  We wrote letters to one another (well emails). I still have them all, printed.  Then we wrote letters AND Skyped, every single day.

The day he came back from his trip wearing the same shirt he eventually married me in, I knew it was over.  I picked him up at the ferry dock and I knew in that all-encompassing way that I couldn’t really describe but understood body deep, that it was just me and him now.

I had no idea that within a year we would be married, and within a year and a half we would have our first baby.

What I did know was this: It felt like a clear, calm, joyful, pure and unquestionable sensation of “This is a yes in every way.”  The likes of which, in all my years of relationships I had never felt before.  Our courtship was truly Rom Com and swoon worthy and I still (we still) remember it fondly with exuberant smiles and laughs.  But under it all there was a hum of an undeniable, “Yes.”  One that even our friends noticed.  More than one commented on it, and one of my husbands girlfriends even confessed later, “I almost called you the day after I met her to say, ‘YOU know she’s the one right?’”

And the yes, it’s been there ever since.  It’s the undercurrent of our weaving.  Even in what I now refer to as “the brutal years” (when we had two children under three) it didn’t waver.

So honey, I’ll tell you again what I say to you frequently: Truly not a day goes by that I’m not grateful for you in my life.  I’m so very thankful that we get to spend our days creating this life together.  You are one of the best and biggest blessings ever bestowed upon me.  Marrying you was one of the most romantic and lovely things I’ve ever done in my life, and not a day goes by that I don’t love your farting and radio listening self more than words can say.

You know it. I know it. Now everyone knows it: I love you.

Happy anniversary.

Love,

Aimée

Aimée Cartier is an author, a professional psychic, and the founder of Intuition University.  She teaches her students how to follow their own internal knowing right into beautiful and glorious things like love, and/or whatever other goodness life has in store for them.  More about her work can be found at www.AimeeCartier.com.