Twenty-one years

We waited together for your family in the parking lot, and then decided to sit in the garden. We were visiting your grandma, and your parents weren't quite there yet.  

Although it was noon, the light was gorgeous overhead, and with my shiny new lens (more on that sad, turned yay-I-get-to-buy-a-new-lens story soon!), I was anxious to shoot.

But you wouldn't let me.

You know that I don't get many pictures of myself, so you were probably just trying to make sure that my face actually made it into the little Compact Flash memory card that I've been using on our vacation.

You wanted me to be remembered on this vacation too. Not just everyone else's face, but my own as well.

But what you didn't know is how insecure I am in front of the camera...

I got nervous. I'm not usually the model, and all I could think about was how awkward I felt and how much I wanted to take the camera from your hands.

Because being in front of the camera is intimidating. To be examined closely and stared down by a huge piece of glass... it feels as if you can see all of me.

But the reality is that you do... Because you're my husband. You know me.

And there's no one I'd rather be known by.

Thanks for walking beside me to my 21st birthday. I love you.