Today is Jamie's birthday.
I met Jamie when we were both 18 and starting college, although I was at the big university 90 minutes up the road, and she was at the smaller college in San Antonio. I'd come down to partake in a party at a house off-campus where my brother and his pals would be, and Jamie was the randomly assigned roommate of a pal from high school.
I *did* try to ask her out that fall, but she wasn't feeling well and dating was off the table. Fair enough. Fortunately, a couple years later she let me know she *was* now open to dating, and I signed up immediately. This fall, it'll have been thirty years.
Which means we've spent our adult lives together.
But that's the thing. She's still as new to me today as she was when we first went out, and I still want her company even more. Working from home has spoiled me completely - my one-day-per-week in the office is a drag. I still want to impress her and see if I can make her laugh, and make dinner for her and be there for her. Because she's the best. She is maybe not someone who is loud or incredibly demonstrative with her love, but she has a lot of it.
She's always my biggest supporter (sometimes taking me by surprise as my hype-man when I was playing it cool), and always my best counsel. I think the past decade, I've gotten really good at listening to her as the person who knows when I'm on to something and when I'm just spinning my wheels. You need a Jamie to keep you honest, team.
We're now old enough that everyone has put up with something in their lives, health-wise or in their personal history. But Jamie has dealt with her own challenges since she was 17, and she's done it with a strength and grace I envy. It is very hard to explain all the challenges, scares and bad-days she's had, and she still gets up and lives every day.
This is a milestone birthday, and it means the world to me that I get to spend it with her.
Happy birthday, baby. I love you.