Two Years.

Husband,

 
June is our month. During the eleven long months between its end and its beginning, June whispers of romantic memories and dances with impatience, eagerly waiting on the sixth calendar page… waiting for our arrival. For us to be back here again. In June. We are welcomed with bright blue skies and glowing green grasses. Warm air infused with irresistible sunshine and recollections of why we adore June so. Because it’s beautiful to be in love in June. And because to be married in June is to join hearts in the sunburst of summer, at the height of earth’s happiness… when the birds kiss the air and butterflies swarm in brilliant bunches around dew filled flowers. The earth celebrates with you, when you’re married in June. Radiance of new growth is at it’s peak… the tree leaves will never be a more precisely perfect shade of green and the sky explodes with blue hues unlike anything you could ever find anywhere else but in June.

 
It was in June that I first loved you, in June that I first kissed you, and in June that I first called you mine. June remembers. And so do we.

We greet June with knowing smiles, nodding our heads to its yearly welcome, tipping our hats to its sunny salutations. Hearts bursting with the overflow of a past year’s love, minds reeling with ever increasing memories, and lips kissing one year better than the last.

We’ll always celebrate in June, because June is the best month of all. It is good, so good, to be two years married.  

But only because I married YOU, 

two years ago… in June. Happy Anniversary, my darling.