Tomorrow is our anniversary.
Seven years ago, we cut out of Ava’s second birthday, we drove the silver Expedition to Selmer, and we got married.
I was nervous and I wasn’t. Looking back, I wish I’d worn something at least a little bit pretty as opposed to jeans and a potato sack of a blouse.
We arrived, we did our paperwork, and then a woman used her husband’s book (prayer book? Book of civil ceremonies? What exactly was it?) and we said our vows in an empty courtroom. I remember she got all choked up and I couldn’t help but wonder why. Was she overwhelmed by how sweet we were? How I didn’t have an engagement ring because we were broker than broke – but we had sweet engraved silver bands? I wonder where those are now. I wonder if, seven years later, that lady still works at the Selmer courthouse. I wonder if she teared up at every eloping couple she saw – and I know she saw a bunch.
Not much changed after that. We lived in the same apartment as before. We didn’t go on some big honeymoon getaway. But I was a wife. You were a husband. And somehow that changed everything.
It’s so easy to lose sight of what we had such a grip on that day.
So easy to say that we weren’t thinking of much besides how we wanted to join a church and they wouldn’t let us while we were living in sin.
Looking back from where we both stand now, the fact that church was a very real issue in our union is….kind of absurd.
But what was real then is no less real now. I love you. I love you even when I don’t like you. I love you enough to say that I’ve spent seven years being yours – and while I may have done a lot of things differently, while I may have taken different steps along the way, my best friend is eternally bound to me in one way or another.
I will never be sorry that you became my future. I will always be yours.
I love that we have grown over the years. Together, apart, together again. So many things have happened. Seizures and surgeries, jobs and houses. Failures and successes.
We’ve had so many roads to travel. You’re the best company I could have asked for.
We make mistakes and we take each other for granted. We do everything wrong.
But we’ll make it. We’ll be okay. We’ll be better than okay because that’s what we do.
Thank you for the past seven years. For our little girl. For being mine. For being what I always know is there.
I love you.