Some of you know this story, but for those who don’t here goes.
I have known my husband since I was three years old. He was six when we met; an older, wiser man. Our mothers were best friends and liked to drink coffee in the afternoon, so he was in charge of walking me home from kindergarten. We spent a LOT of time together as kids, but never romantically. In fact, when our moms would predict we’d wind up together, we’d groan and shriek and spit “Ew!”
That attitude changed when we were hit with the puberty stick.
And then it changed again when I went away to college because we were young and stupid. We married other people and went almost twenty years without being in contact with each other. When our first marriages ended, our paths crossed again. The second time around we weren’t so stupid.
I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.