Tomorrow we will celebrate nine years of marriage. And all I can think is they have been a hard fought nine years. People who believe marriage is held together by some sort of magical love fairy have obviously not been on the other side of some of our more epic battles.
I actually think that's part of what has made this work, though. We've learned, together, to fight fairly and only with one another. I'm sorry it took the better part of those nine years to realize how important that aspect of marriage is...particularly since it's something you seemed to get from the beginning.
Actually, there were a lot of things that just made sense to you. Provision. Protection. Support. Encouragement. While I was busy believing laundry was a need to be met, you were careful to acknowledge the less tangible needs in me. To acknowledge those gifts is to openly acknowledge that our marriage has gotten to this point due to your continued persistence.
That's just you, though. You would never admit it, but as soon as someone tells you something is impossible, you have a goal--to prove him or her wrong. Your tenacity and super strange sense of humor have been rallying points for us whether you've realized it or not. And those gifts are mostly the reason we've notched our belts for nine whole years.
It's funny, though isn't it? To wake up and realize that none of this looks the way we planned it, but to know that I would've chosen you over and over. To me, that is the most accurate depiction of love--the fact that we have chosen each other in spite of circumstances that statistically ruin relationships.
I wonder if being a little bit broken meant we fused as we healed? If that's true, I wonder what our relationship will look like when grief isn't a part of most days--when it's just you and me and not you and me and the could-have-beens. It can't be less than beautiful, because I'm highly convinced that the flaws and blemishes are the story behind beauty. And we certainly have our own fair share.
But whatever jumbled, beautiful mess it may be, we're right in the middle of it together.
And in the end, I want to be standing at the beginning with you.
I love you--as deeply as you've taught me to love.