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I regret that all I have are words, in exchange for all you have given me. I dedicate this story to my muse and the co-author, not so much in words, but in its creation. You have given me the best adventures that I will cherish so long as you are mine. You are the preserver of precious memories, the warmth in the cold, my reason for joy, and the light in the darkest places.  

Happy 10th anniversary, my sweet Jennie. -  Your Jon 

I Drew a Monkey in a Math Book and Now I'm Married is the true story of how I met my wife Jennie and our awkward teenage romance that followed. I wrote it, intending for it to be nothing more than a simple blog post about what it is like, for those who will never know, being married for ten years before you're thirty years old. As the words came and I cataloged more and more of our story I realized that what I had written was so much more than just a blog post. It was a full chronicle of the the year leading up to when we were married.

In the summer, mostly throughout the month of April and May, I would sneak out of bed every night and go back to telling our story. I had a deadline, our 10th anniversary was June 1st. I would write endlessly transfixed on telling the story as best I could remember, going back, rereading it, rewriting it. Often, the only indication I had to remind me of the time was the sun peering in from the windows in our living room to let me know it was time to rest.

Finally, on the morning of our anniversary, I powered through the last chapter of the story. I proof read the draft as much was possible given my extreme fatigue. As night faded to dawn, which faded to well into the morning and the sounds of a town awakened began to be heard, I knew this was all the time I had. I printed the story out on whatever paper I could find and bound the forty something pages with a large paperclip. I considered waking her up to show her what I had done. I wanted to see her face. I decided against it. "Why wake her?" I thought. I sat it in the bathroom, where I knew she would see it as soon as she was awake. Following this, I went to bed, and looked at her one last time before collapsing in exhaustion.

A few hours later, she nudged me awake. She had read it during her bath. She was elated at the simple gift. I'm not a rich man. There were few things material I could have bought for her that would have meant as much. Instead of spending money I didn't have, I gave her my time and my talent so out family could have a lasting memory of its beginning. That is this story, part one of what I hope to be a larger work, I Drew A Monkey in a Math Book and Now I'm Married, dedicated to Jennie, but shared with all of you.

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