Let’s Play The Counting Game

Curved road passing through spring cherry blossoms, green summer trees, autumn orange leaves, and snowy winter trees

I’m going to say it seven times; once for every year they said we wouldn’t make it.

  • I told you so
  • I told you so
  • I told you so
  • I told you so
  • I told you so
  • I told you so
  • I told you so.

Seven years ago today, me and my lunch/karaoke buddy from work realized we were hopelessly in love with each other. Our entire office bailed on her housewarming party – because that’s what poons do. Not me; I cared. Two Sonic Route 44 Ocean Waters and a bottle of Malibu Rum later, we confessed.

The rest is still-evolving history.

Those closest to us thought it was a horrible idea, and that we’d never make it. Apparently, I had/have a pattern with women, and she had/has a horribly low tolerance for man-stuff. Jokes on 99% of you, f**kos. Here we sit.

No one on my side of things asked much of anything. They believed it to be just another hopeless “Chad” thing. People on her side of things recommended a prenuptial agreement, questioned my health, and gawked at the seventeen year age gap.

Hell, one of her friends asked, “can he even still have sex?”

Haha! Define “have“. I’m only 52 (45 when we got married). I’m still a goddamn circus freak. I could swear my darling bride traveled in smarter circles.

Seven. Damn. Years.

Pandemics, career changes, literary idiot drama, health scares, hastily concocted rumors, and poorly planned shipping shenanigans…

We told you so x 7.

Here we sit; stronger with every year and turning our noses up in response to those we know who had zero faith in the plan.

I think she has a one friend left. I think I do as well. Now, those two must sword fight each other to the death like freaking Highlander.

No break-ups, no divorce threats, no walking in on the other doing the hibbidy dibbidy with construction workers, Fast and Furious wannabes, or dudes with less teeth than brain cells.

It could all go straight to Hell tomorrow but, as of this moment, it’s been seven years. I bend down, kiss the milestone, and immediately slap the doubters across the face with a smile. Kiss our milestone.

Seven years.


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