To the Ends of The Earth and Back

This is a photo of me and Rand, at the Cape of Good Hope.

I like the way the wind picked up my hair. The gusts were so strong, we could barely stand straight.

There was a crowd of people waiting to pose with the sign, and we all had to take turns. We jumped in, took a few photos, and jumped out. When we kissed, a crowd of tourists cheered.

I love that this photo exists – this image of the two of us at the edge of the world.

And then there’s this one, of Rand skipping down a walkway to go see penguins. I caught him mid-air:

And this one:

I like how you can tell we’re both smiling.

I guess it shouldn’t be surprising that I still like him as much as I do. I dare you to look at this picture and not fall in love:

WHAT. THE. HELL. He’s gorgeous.

But every now and then, it catches me off guard: the realization that even after six years of traveling together, I’d follow him to ends of the earth without hesitation.

That I’d see so much of the planet, and still manage to feel like the luckiest person on it.

(Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.)