He wasn't a savior or a god to me. I have a tendency to refer to him as such in my writing, because I'm annoyingly florid by nature and his impact on my life changed everything. But I know it isn't true. Instead, he was something much more interesting. He was just a boy. A normal, human boy. With soft brown hair and soft brown eyes and a smile that could dazzle me when he directed it my way.  
  
I thought I was so ethereal back then, but really, I was just traumatized. I considered myself to be elegant in a way, but in the sense that I wasn't getting my hands dirty with living because I didn't expect to be around much longer. So I conducted my life as an experiment from above, puppeting my body around like a marionette, so pale and disassociated from the world.  
I was not vulgar and base like most people. I didn't need anything from anyone.  
Until I met him.  
I met him and he wrapped his hand around my ankle, and jerked me out of the clouds above him and back down to the earth below. He pulled me, practically yanked me, into my body again, because he wanted to dance with me and build a life.

Far more interesting than anything God had ever done for me up until that point, in my opinion.

His normalness was shocking. He just... Existed. And that existing left me utterly speechless. He had his issues, sure, but I rubbed my eyes and blinked rapidly, and he stayed the same every time I looked.  
He was not mentally ill or damaged. He was just a person, and that was fucking thrilling.

Everything about the world felt new next to him.

He said, "Let me hold your hand." and I was just blown the fuck away by the fact that he wanted to link fingers with me. I could spend hours just looking at his arm and gently touching, tracing the skin there, and watching it respond with goosebumps. The little hairs on the outside of his forearm, so intriguing. The smooth paleness on the inside of his wrist, so thought-provoking. Him sitting and doing literally nothing while I examined him like a biologist would set off fireworks in my chest.

Just him talking about homework, and how he was going to get a job, and how he wanted to get his own place, all such basic, average, typical, teenage things, felt wild and new to me. I was giddy with just the existence of him. This perfectly imperfect creature that was nothing like me.

This was a person with plans to continue from cradle to grave, but the grave was far, *far* away. Unfathomably so. He talked about how he wanted to retire in his 50's instead of his 60’s and I was basically laying on my stomach, feet up, kicking my heels back and forth like, "*Oh my. Your* 50's? *But that's so incredibly long.*" Just absolutely enthralled with his vision of life not being a crisis.

This man ate meals, worked out, did schoolwork, drove places, did dishes, and slept. He took no meds. He didn't scream in his sleep all hours of the night. His organs all seemed to work in harmony with each other. He was healthy, happy, and sane.

The fact that he was so... grounded... was absolutely the craziest shit I had ever seen.

And somehow, he was also in love with me.

So when he kissed me, perhaps it was partly the normalness of the moment that overwhelmed my system and caused me to reboot. No one was in danger and nothing was going wrong. He simply pressed me up against the wall and pressed his mouth to mine and everything in my world went blue. Then he stopped kissing me because he had to step away to pay his car insurance or whatever other adult thing needed doing, but I was there trembling and entirely made new.

I gawked at him, essentially. Every breath and movement, I took notes like there would be a test later. I'd watch him make a French press and take his coffee with one cream, and it was amazing. I hardly ever slept, so I'd lay awake at night just to watch the moon creep slowly across his blanketed shape, captivated by the rise and fall of his chest.   
For the first time in my life feeling so happy and finally safe.

We just celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary, and I'm still fascinated by every little thing he does, so overwhelmed by him in the best possible of ways. He comes home from work and I still throw my arms around his neck and press kisses all over his face as he scoops me up and spins me around. The love I feel flares so bright I fear it could be blinding, but he never looks away. 

I never stop being astonished by how lucky I am to have him. 

*(A plate of hummus, whipped feta, preserved lemon, marinaded cucumber, olives, tahini, and other delicious dips from our anniversary dinner)*

Everyday life is thrilling with him even after 13 years