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a love story

A few days ago, I celebrated a decade with this guy.

When Andrew and I first started dating, neither of us expected it to last. It was kind of a ‘well this will be fun until we blow it up’ kind of thing.

I was newly sober (again). All the people who know things about these things do NOT recommend getting into a relationship in your first year of recovery. And it’s good advice. Advice I’d ignored before with questionable results.

He was everything I thought I didn’t want in a partner. Recently divorced. With 2 kids. A job in tech. Nearly two decades older.

We met in AA, under fluorescent lights and sordid tales. So a meet-cute, it was not. But somehow, amidst it all, we found ourselves drawn to one another. And though all conventional wisdom told us this was a very bad plan indeed, we went ahead and gave it a shot anyway.

A decade later, I could not be more thrilled to still be doing life with this guy. He’s my champion and my supporter. He tells me all the time how proud he is of me. He handles the shipping and the taxes for this business and the vast majority of the adulting in our shared life together. He’s a doting cat dad. A world class snuggler. A gifted photographer. And man, do we laugh together.

And it just goes to show what beauty and love can grow from such strange beginnings. Turns out, the universe really knew what it was doing when it put us together all those many moons ago.

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