Today marks three years that I have been able to call James my husband. There are a lot of things that I still do not know at all about marriage or him or love. But three years in, here is what I know.

I know that eating ice cream on the couch in sweatpants is totally a date, so is grocery shopping at 11 pm.

I know that sometimes I will cry about my clothes and he will not understand, and he knows to just back away slowly.

I know that it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love me just because he leaves his shoes in the middle of the floor.

I know that, while I can survive on variations of exactly the same thing, for every meal, for all of time, he cannot.

I know that I become a fire breathing, flesh-eating, dragon-beast-woman when I go too long between…