Eleven

Today, Clyde and I celebrate our eleventh anniversary.

I gave Clyde his Sirius Satellite Radio some time ago. (If I buy a present early, I can’t stand not to go ahead and give it.) Clyde surprised me this week with a wonderful little overnight jaunt to New Orleans. He got us a room in the swanky Le Pavillion Hotel.

In addition to a great dinner at Dante’s and breakfast at the Crystal Room, we saw two movies that are far too good to ever play in Jackson: Latter Days (a sweet, funny romantic comedy about a love affair between a gay man and a Mormon missionary) and Super Size Me (which has put me off fast food for good).

Mostly? We were just with each other, which, I think, is the most wonderful present in the world.

Clyde: you are the most patient, gentle, hard-working, and noble man I’ve ever known. Eleven years into this, I’m amazed by you, delighted by you, happy to see you next to me, and hungry for your voice, your warmth, your touch, and your spirit.

You make my life make sense. You’re all the things I want to be, but that I’m not … and you’re all the things I hoped I would find, but that I never really believed I could.

I love you so much. Here’s hoping God grants us eleven more years — and more — together.