That’s quoted on a card one of my best friends gave me for my bridal shower. And how true of a statement it is.

She said it is sort of a metaphor for marriage and I have to agree. Past the ooey gooey lovey dovey, past the wedding, past the rings, there’s real life.

There’s laundry that has to be done. Bills that need to be paid. A dog that needs to be groomed and dinner that has to be cooked.

But I am happy to say that in between the mundane, there’s a glow. A warmth. A type of happiness I had never felt until meeting him.

I read a thread on the Knot recently where a woman said that while she loved her fiance more than anything, he was not her best friend. Her comment was met with mixed reviews. Everything from, “what? you’re crazy!” to “I totally know what you mean.”

I have to admit it shocked me. I mean, yes, I have a female best friend. But the person who knows me better than anyone? Who knows my secrets, my fears and my flaws?

It’s Michael. No question.

I don’t think it’s a requirement that your partner be your “best friend”, but mine certainly is.

He’s the one that talks me down of a ledge when our caterer throws us a curve ball, and then in the next breath asks me ever so nicely if I would kindly put away my mail instead of leaving it on the counter. He’s the one who wraps me up in the tightest of hugs, then tells me I’m stinky 10 minutes later.

He is my best friend. For better or worse.

What do you think. Does your partner have to be your best friend?