Seven years. As of January 1st, that's how long Greg and I have been together (our official "go" moment was at Rob's house on New Year's day, 2000). It's amazing to consider, since I had never been able to maintain a relationship longer than 2 weeks before that. Two random facts:
1) My mom alerted my dad to the possibility of interest between Greg and I, and my dad pulled me aside. "I want you to be careful not to hurt him, ok?". This still cracks me up, since fathers (especially mine) are usually all kinds of concerned about the welfare of their daughters as opposed to the young men they pair up with. This gives a small indication, however, of the rather interesting place I was at in my life.
2) In the first week that we were together, I tried to convince Greg not to continue with me, because I promised that I would break up with him at least once (I was just coming out of a very unstable time in my life, and was a little crazy and off kilter in more ways than one). I that I wasn't the ideal choice for "first girlfriend".
As it turns out, Greg was far more stubbern, and way more loving than I could have imagined. We never broke up, I never broke his heart, and a year-and-a-half later, we got married. Three kids and seven years later, and I still think that was one fine idea.
(After Greg made fudge a few days ago, the boys learned all about the joys of licking the pot clean)