Fast forward a decade. I meet this really creepy guy at work (not Paul) who won't leave me alone. Anything I say, he's like, "oh hey I like that too. We should totally date." At first he's sweet and then his casual stalking escalates into "if you follow me to my car one more time, your face is going to meet my bear mace." So I scout out ways to avoid Creeper McCreeperson. I lock eyes with this cute, but shy guy who works in the basement. I begin buddying up with him with the sole intention of getting him to walk me out to my car after work. Turns out his shift ends four hours before mine. As it also turns out, we can't stop talking. I find out that he's completely awesome. Fast forward another year. We tie the knot. We make a baby. Not sure why I wrote this paragraph in the present tense.
My brother-in-law claims that I don't accurately portray our odd relationship on my social media outlets. So here is my best attempt at describing our relationship:
If our relationship were a tangible thing, it would be a giant ball of awesome with cool stuff in it like velociraptors, Blue Bell ice cream, Lord of the Rings, and maybe even an AR-15 or two. We giggle insanely into the wee hours of the night about the stupidest crap and sometimes we argue so drastically that we can't look at each other. We read Harry Potter over and over again together, we have a secret handshake, our family home evenings consist of me beating the snot out of him at Halo, he likes to run into whatever room I'm in and slap my butt, he attacks me with "unrighteous kisses" (kisses that he gives when he hasn't shaved in a day or two), we are actively preparing for the zombie apocalypse, and he sings every annoying song known to man. That's our relationship. Sometimes it's really difficult to be married, but most of the time it's pretty rewarding (example: he just brought me a bowl of Apple Jacks).
my V-day card to Paul this year