So what have you been doing for the last 17 years?

Seriously, think about it. Think about all those months and days and people and places and events that have passed through your life. Think about the world and all that’s changed in that amount of time. Think about who you were then and who you are now. Seventeen years seems like a long time, doesn’t it? It does to me. It seems like forever ago. Yet, tomorrow, Emmett and I are celebrating 17 years together. Seventeen years ago we became a couple.

And it seems like yesterday.

Emmett is the love of my life. Love. Of. My. Life. I’m only 37 so that might not mean as much as it would if I were 97, but you get the point. This man means the world to me. He’s brilliant and kind and funny and tender and peaceful and strong and fascinating. He is music. He is nature. He is color. He is him. And I can’t get enough. Every day I look forward to waking up because I know he’s going to be a part of my day. When I’m around him, I feel lucky and happy. When I’m around him, I am a better person.

Seventeen years ago, when Emmett and I found a little spot on a hill away from the party we were at and the people that were there, we talked about many things, for hours (until 5 a.m., if I’m not mistaken), none of which I can remember now except for this: telling him I didn’t want to have children and him saying the same thing to me. Now that’s not the only reason I started dating, and eventually married, the man (his perfect nose, lovely butt, and warm hands sucked me in too). But it is one of the primary ones. For me, having kids wasn’t something that was up for discussion. It was nonnegotiable. And Emmett was cool with that. More than cool, actually. He was adamant about remaining childfree too.

Usually when people find out that Emmett and I choose not to have kids, they seem confused. Really confused. I assume it’s because they see the two of us and how well we are with each other and can’t believe that a couple that appears so together wouldn’t want to have children together. Yes, yes, yes…of all the people in the world to have kids, as we’ve been told a million times, it “should” be us—smart, driven, healthy, stable. A good breed, so to speak. But for Emmett and me, that’s not the point. We didn’t come together to procreate. We became a couple to create us.

We are with each other because we are so much that we love in life, that we love about life, that we love doing in life. It doesn’t get more alive than our relationship. We gave birth to the couple we have become. We’ve nurtured it, fed it, schooled it, shaped it, listened to it, bonded with it, and loved it. We’ve watched it grow into what it is today—a love freely given and freely received. Nothing obligates us to the relationship. Not money nor power nor fear of change. It depends on nothing. Individually, we are capable and strong. We can find our way in the world just fine. But together we tingle. And the world vibrates along with us.

And that’s why I am with the man I am. You see, I can have a baby and love it regardless of who the father is. Heck, these days you don’t even have to know who the father is. But I can’t love a man regardless of who that man is. At least not if I love my own self as well. And I do. So I’m with someone who knows that this is all he’s getting: us. And the life we create.

Tomorrow will be 17 years worth of yesterdays. They happened so easily. They really did. They slid in and slipped out and then the next one came followed by yet another. It wasn’t as if they weren’t memorable. In fact, it’s just the opposite. I can’t get them out of my mind.

Which is why it all seems like yesterday.