Actually, a year four days ago. But still.
A little over a year ago, I got on a plane and flew nearly 6,000 kilometers to be with the man I love. It was the single most intelligent and most meaningful thing I've done, the best decision I've ever made. I still wake up smiling and often catch myself staring at him, trying to figure out how I got so lucky.
There were people who thought what I was doing was insane, that I wasn't prepared for the change or the financial challenge - and people who, though they tried very hard not to say as much, clearly thought there was a good chance the relationship would fail and I would be stuck in England, penniless and alone. And a year (which simultaneously feels like a century and an eye blink) ago, I decided that on V Day 2012 I would write a big screw you to everyone who thought we wouldn't make it.
But, to be honest, I'm not bitter. I knew those people where wrong then, I know that they were wrong now, and I'm still happy, so why bother? The majority of them were just concerned for me, even if their concern showed itself in a way I didn't like.
I met him in August, in October I was in love and by November, so was he. In February, we officially started our life together... and a year later, we're still going strong.
