Five

"You barely know each other."

"Why not wait a little longer?"

"It's been less a year."

"He's not what we pictured you with."

"She's not the girl we thought he'd marry."

"It won't last a year."

Five years later, we're still proving all those people wrong.

Mark, marrying you was the best poorly-thought-out, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants, jump-in-head-first decision I ever made.

What do ya say we prove them wrong for another five years?

Happy anniversary, husaband. I love you.