Our first anniversary is in 3 days, and we've spent some time reflecting on what that year has meant to us. I think this question is probably better answered by people who have been married longer than we, but maybe our nearness to that decision lends a type of clarity as well.

My wife understands me in a way that I'm not sure anyone else has, and she picked up on me from the get-go. The first time we spent any meaningful face-time together was the first (and last) time I took psychedelics. It was a strange genesis but incredibly meaningful. Her patience and warmth during that episode was a comfort I had longed for. We were close, following that, but it was difficult for me to articulate the feelings I had for her and so we grew apart.

We now know that neither of us stopped thinking of the other during that time apart, but in the moment it felt so isolating to have lost such a depth of communicative understanding. We both dated and had some meaningful growth as individuals, but the partners we were with were not people we could commit to.

We reconnected, gently at first. I remember feeling like the bud of our relationship was so fragile. We spent long nights for several weeks, unpacking everything we had felt before, determining that we could grow what we had seen originally. We wanted that bud to be stronger.

Our trust deepened, and over the course of several months I felt an urgency to commit to her.

Our love deepened, and I stopped being able to imagine living without her. I told her, and we began planning our life.

Over the course of those years, this woman placed her trust in me - her odds on bet that out of every person in this world I would treat her best; I've done the same.

Her trust is strength, and when I realized that I realized I could marry her.