10.
Dear Rand,
You know what today is, right?
Yeah. Holy shit.
Sorry. I know cussing is only for special occasions like the Superbowl and visiting your family. But still. HOLY SHIT, RAND.
I think we might need to count them, to make sure it’s actually true.
One …
We. Were. SO. DAMN. YOUNG.
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Two …
Remember how you couldn't kiss me without all those little hearts popping out of your head?
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Three …
Notice how I didn't post a photo of the fauxhawk? You're welcome.
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Four …
Returning home from a weekend trip to SF, summer 2005
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Five …
Aaaaaand, FINALLY. The facial hair appears.
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Six …
This is when we were scouting out wedding locations. The picture is blurry because I was drunk.
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Seven …
By now I had gotten the distinct impression that you liked me.
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Eight …
Yeah, it's official: You DEFINITELY have a thing for me.
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Nine …
Okay, FINE. Maybe it's a weensy bit mutual.
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Aaaaaaand TEN!
I bet you were expecting another kissing photo, huh?
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I’m ready to re-up our contract for at least another year or seventy.
Love,
Geraldine
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