Ten years ago tonight, under a summer moon at a very wild party, I fell in love for the last time.

And I have a story to tell.

It is story that took ten years to write and it isn’t even done.

It is a story of new beginnings, and reinventions.

There is death, and there is new life.

There is joy beyond imagining and tears from the heart of despair.

There are kings and queens, and great disasters, and enormous triumphs.

We have seen the best and the worst of our natures.

Falling in love is easy.  That’s love as a noun.

Loving, actively loving, every day, for better or worse, through the endless rhythms of every day life, is a dedication and a calling.

But we are still here.

Together.

And we are still in love.

To my husband,

You are, and always will be, the love of my life.  I would not rewrite one chapter of the story we have written.  I will always wait breathlessly for the next installment.

Even though I know how it ends.

Together.

MTAMTE, Baby.