Today is my one year anniversary with Mr Bear. Being on St. Patrick's day, it's easy to remember. He sent me a text this morning to wish me happy anniversary and said it's been the best year of his life. It's been the best year of mine, too. One year ago today we went on an "accidental" date, where we made the waitstaff surprisingly uncomfortable by sitting on the same side of the table. This was after a month of dancing around one another. Twelve months later, and this is the most stable, equitable, fulfilling relationship I've ever been in. Not to make it sound boring, it's full of passion and intimacy-in-inapproriate-places and almost-getting-caught, and all of that is possible because I have finally found my partner. The person who compliments and balances me. Neat to my messy, digital to my analog, totally the marinara sauce to my spaghetti. My wonderful, perfect, amazing, swoon-worthy Mr. Bear.
So what are we doing to celebrate? Probably nothing. We're moving in three weeks(thus bringing us to the relocation portion of this post) and have many things to pack. In the midst of our packing schedule is my birthday party in about ten days, but I've worked out how to make stacks and stacks of boxes and a spartan rest-of-the-house work with it; Firefly theme! Just put a Blue Sun logo on the boxes and they become cargo! I'm a genius!
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