It’s been a while.
I mean, not really. Our last text was about five minutes ago and there’s just a few hours before you come home for the evening. But letter-wise, it’s been ages. Years. Lifetimes.
(For those of you who are not Chad, letter writing used to be a thing I did. A lot. I used to spend a lot of the time I wasn’t around Chad, writing to Chad. During health class, in my dorm, on the light rail. We practically have a library of hand-written double-sided notes, stuffed in several binders on a bookshelf.)
I’m coming out of retirement to wish you a happy birthday. So, here it is: happy birthday, hubband!!!!!!! I love you so, so, so much.
(For those of you who are not Chad, Chad turned 28 years old on June 12.)
Holy fucking cow, can you freaking believe that you’re 28? It’s nuts. Insane. Ludacris. But also…expected. Logical. Real. We always talked about “growing old” together, and of course 28 isn’t old, but that’s what it means—crossing the birthdays you never imagined, moving from moment to moment until you realized that movement can be measured by a cluster of years.
It’s a privilege to be moving at this same pace with you, and to have been for so long.
(For those of you who are not Chad, we started dating when Chad was 17 years old.)
Here’s the joke portion (remember when I’d dedicate a piece of the letter to a joke or doodle? What silly goofy fun!): You made it past 27, which, besides the fact that you’re obviously not a prodigiously talented genius—sorry, not sorry—also means that you’ve finally reached the age of fully developed male maturity. Congratulations, you’ve finally caught up. Welcome to the club.
(For those of you who might not know, I’m referring to the 27 Club and something I read once about men not developing their brains/maturity until their late twenties.)
Chad, I hope you know how special you are. You’re smart and hard-working, tactical and cute, brilliant and capable. I appreciate a million things about you, especially what you do and how you do—often motivated by honor and responsibility, but also curiosity and flavor.
You just mean the world to me, and Wally too, and you deserve to know how much you matter.
I hope that 28 holds space for the things you want and the things you need.
May this next year be full of the good stuff: bike rides, coconut-flavored things, shows you can’t stop watching, pizza with toppings, chances to use your miter saw, sunny days without burns, outfit compliments, brewery visits with wheat and fruited options, easy travel days, casual Brewers games, a few ski runs, Wally cuddles, successful fantasy football trades, flavorful coffee, early mornings, bartending opportunities for loved ones, correct trivia questions, page-turning novels, fluffy dog sightings, reasonably priced cheese curds, and plenty of efficiency.
(For those of you who are not Chad, I hope this paints a clear picture: he’s pretty great.)
Happy birthday, honey. I love you always.