Six years ago, right around this time (too early on what is today a Saturday), I boarded a plane for Orlando, FL. I had never been to Orlando, but I was giddy with excitement. One of my best friends was getting married, and I was in the wedding.
I was a little crazy, a little out of control. I was very young. I was very tall. And I had no idea that May 12th was the day I would meet my husband.
I saw him careen over a hedge next to a church, late for the rehearsal. He looked… disheveled. I was wearing a cute brown dress (is it weird I can still remember insignificantly small details – down to the earrings from Handpicked?), and he wore – I swear – a dirty button down and really awful jeans. I was disappointed that he was matched to be my groomsman. Let’s just say I quickly got over my disappointment.
Fast forward a year – five years ago now – and I was also awake on a Saturday morning. I was dropping off things that I do not remember the details of to my future in-laws house and picking up my wedding dress from the cleaners. I was giddy with excitement then too. I was about to take a giant leap of faith.
It’s been five years of marriage for me and K. I could not be happier with my choice to join my life with his. He is an adventure, and the life we’ve built in the last six years together is exactly the life I want. He loves me, with everything he has to give. He was made for me, and I think he’d say the same thing about me for him. I love him.
All this time
The Sun never says
to the Earth,
“You owe me.”
With a love like that.
It lights the