4 years

ser.en.dip.i.ty \ˌser-ən-ˈdi-pə-tē\
n: good luck in finding things not sought for

That is definitely not what brought about our story. Our first meeting at the Hot Air Festival 4 years ago was not because of good luck nor was it an accident. We both chose to show up at that EB (although I just remembered you were almost 2 hours late, good thing I had a book with me so I almost didn't mind waiting). Sparks did not fly for me (please tell me that it did for you though) during that first encounter and yet just a couple of weeks later, I said yes to "us." Back then I did not perceive you as my ideal man. You weren't into books, we do not dig the same movies and I had no idea you were an artist. You just seemed pretty decent and you made me feel genuinely cared for. Now, 4 years and a kid after, I want to tell you I am proud of that choice. I may not have written you maudlin love letters (although this note is slowly turning into one), and I may never have quoted Neruda for you nor ever tried to impress you with my "cooking." Yet, do know, I never stop being grateful for the surprise of you. Everyday with you is an adventure, a series of discoveries. I know I'm the furthest from being the perfect wife and that I have many many flaws yet you choose to be with me each day and inspire me to become the best version of myself.
Here's to more years of sharing housework and parenting tasks, of arguing whether James Reid's album is auto tune or not (it's really not, I swear), of fighting over that last piece of dark mint chocolate, of living creatively and of fulfilling more dreams together. Happy anniversary B!