Eleven Years

It had to be you
It had to be you
I wandered around
And finally found
Somebody who
Could make me be true
Could make me be blue.
Or even be glad
Just to be sad
Thinking of you.
Some others I've seen,
Might never be mean.
Might never be cross,
Or try to be boss,
But they wouldn't do.
For nobody else gave me a thrill,
With all your faults I love you still.
It had to be you, wonderful you,
It had to be you.

They say that you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince.  As it happens, I agree with Jim Benton that kissing a frog to get the prince is a waste of a perfectly good frog.  

I was never one of those who looked for the prince or the white horse or the fairytale.  When I met my now-husband, I wasn't looking for anything at all, as it happens.  He was my friend first, well before anything else. It took me a long time to realize that what I wasn't looking for was right in front of me.

Princes aren't real, at least the storybook ones.  Looking good on a horse wasn't high on my list of criteria for a potential husband, anyway: intelligence, a good sense of humor, solid values and a stable family were the big ones on my list.  What I found was a partner (not a prince, no fairytale rescue!), with all of these must-haves, who balances my volatility with calm, who has my back at all times and can make me laugh, no matter what; who has the most wonderfully solid shoulders for crying on and giving hugs; who loves our children beyond measure and is the man I want my sons to grow up to be.  And he can reliably set up all electronic devices in the house and fix my beloved internet connection when it goes down as a bonus!

Eleven years ago this afternoon, we stood together before Father Bryan, our families and friends and said our vows.  I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.  It was perfectly clear: it had to be you.