So, Kevin and I don't really have an anniversary. We met sometime in spring semester my junior year -- towards the end of the semester. We never really started officially dating in any clear sense...so if we were going to mark an anniversary, it'd probably make sense to mark it from the day we met. If we knew when that was. In previous years, I've picked various days in May and declared them our anniversary; the day was May 1st more often than any other, but not for any particularly good reason (except that it was easy to remember, and that I was often throwing a Beltane party then anyway, so it felt appropriate). This isn't really a satisfactory situation, since it means that I can't get upset with him for forgetting it (well, I suppose I could wait until July and then get upset, but I'd forget by then, so that doesn't work either). I don't really know that he would forget it -- he generally does a pretty good job of remembering my birthday. But he might. And so I think it'd be good to have an actual anniversary. I'm thinking that May 7th might be a good one; the day I move in with him. And instituting a new one has the added advantage of avoiding the whole question of exactly how long we've been dating anyway -- because if you try and subtract out all the gaps, it's probably around nine years, much of it long-distance (and so perhaps only counting for half?). But if you just count it from the time we met, it would be a full ten. Which I find myself getting oddly sentimental about today. Perhaps also because while cleaning out my files I found an old letter from him that clearly dates from that very first year we were dating; possibly from the first few months. He sounds so different in it -- so young. It's charming. I'm charmed. And I suppose all this is my way of saying that whatever happens with the anniversary, whatever happens with living together, with being lovers, with us as a couple -- I'm really glad that he's been in my life for ten years. I can't imagine what my life would have been like without him.