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He’s different now. Older, more mature; he’s a steadier, more dependable guy than the flimsy boy you met straight out of college. But his love for you has stayed the same, been the same grounding part of his life—maybe even grown stronger as you’ve evolved and developed together, from kids trying to mimic adults to holding your own against the never-tiring opponent of life with all that it throws at you. And you always tackle it together, because that’s what partnership is. It took you about a decade to master it, to know what it truly means to be an adult (it has no real definition, you’ve concluded), and now you’re here, standing side by side, with nothing behind you and everything ahead. The view from the summit is breathtaking; all you can see is the glow of the rare and enduring beauty that you and Sugawara have carefully weaved together with millions of strands of memories. A few bumps along the way may slow you down, but it’ll never bring your journey together to a full stop, as long as you keep persevering, keep pushing through the endless overtime you’re stuck doing for your idiot boss and the parent-teacher conferences that nearly suck the soul out of your poor boyfriend.
You’ve loved all of Sugawara’s versions: the boy that was frail, a little weak, and full of hopes and dreams that only experience can–and will–crush; him and his newfound confidence in being the man people sought knowledge, advice, and comfort from—granted, many of those people were very young children, but they valued his wisdom nonetheless. You love the man he is now: slightly weathered, always a little tired, but as full of love and warmth as he’s ever been. And you love whomever he will become, because the only reassurance you need is that Sugawara still is and will always be Sugawara. And he will always be yours.
Whenever you let him in on exactly how you feel about him, his cheeks grow rosy like a newborn baby’s, his hands ball up in nervous fists, and his shoulders start to hike up, as if he’s anticipating for you to take it back, say you were joking. Even after all these years, he’s still not quite used to the amount of love you hold for him, like it’s strange for you to love him so much. So, of course, you recite your proclamations of love straight to his face as often as time will let you.
When you speak to him with such tenderness while still in bed, not quite yet ready to attack the day, it may lead to a few… less than tender moments, let’s say, but he’ll never forget to kiss your forehead afterwards and recite his own speech about how much he loves you, reducing you to a giddy mess.
And so, on the day that marks his thirty-second year on this planet, you hope that he is aware of how unbelievably grateful you are to be a part of his life, how you feel like the luckiest person alive to share a home, a bed with him. You hope you have reminded him enough times that you do, in fact, love him, and that, no, it's not in his head. Sometimes you feel like you ought to really knock some sense into him, but that might have to wait for tomorrow.
Happy Birthday, Sugawara Koushi!