10 years.
It’s impossible to not think of how messy my life was when I first met you. Not that it hasn’t been messy in the decade since, but you’ve helped me build a life worth saving. I had no idea that when we matched on Tinder, that we’d move in with each other, that we’d get married, raise a family of pets, buy and sell a home, move across the country (twice), travel multiple countries, experience profound loss and sadness and find joy in the little moments.
Love isn’t smooth. Sometimes it’s drunk yelling outside of a bar. It’s holding eachother sobbing after a bad day at work. It’s making fun of each others music taste. It’s going to the concert of the artist you just made fun of on the way. It’s pushing each others boundaries to try new foods and take big risks and watch scary movies and to wear fancy clothes. It’s setting new boundaries. It’s finding yourself again and each other as you evolve and develop into newer versions of yourself. It’s sometimes doubt. It’s remembering why you fell in love. It’s falling back in love when you see your partner care for your pets, or make a small gesture of kindness. It’s feeling like no matter what is going on around you, you have your person with your private language and inside jokes and somebody who knows how to make you feel like you’re home.
I love you Ali. Let’s do it for another 10 years.
Today’s been a year. I’ve struggled to write something this whole time, not really knowing how I’d start it or what point I was trying to make.
***Finished in the comments.***
Six years.
A lot changes in six years, and this year has been no exception. We’ve grieved together, laughed together, eaten numerous meals, traveled across the world, seen hundreds of hours of live music, and we’ve really grown as people- hand in hand. There’s nobody else on this planet I would rather do this with. You are my rock and you keep me in check on a daily basis. You are the best pet mom, and you amaze me daily. I love you, and I hope you find some street spaghetti today.
Emanuel de Jesus Blanco
I really haven’t known how to process this the last few days. I still don’t. I never imagined I’d have to live in a world that you weren’t in.
We became friends 20 years ago, when I was 15 years old. You were the funniest person I’d ever met, and I looked up to you so much. I’ve never met somebody so genuine and so real; you were unabashedly yourself. You made me want to be a better person, warts and all. You called me on my shit when I needed it, and you were my biggest supporter even when I didn’t need it.
20 years of friendship and I have almost no pictures of you. I’ve stolen so many of them the last couple of days, including this one. You look beautiful here. I think I was truly present when we were together, and I didn’t need to capture the moment.
I love you and I’ll miss you forever, Pampers.
