Once upon a time there was a girl and a boy who fell in love. The girl was nearly seventeen to the boy's nearly twenty years of age. No one really expected them to stay together; their first two years were pretty good, but they hit their rough patch with very little grace and dignity. The girl resorted to making sure that everyone knew their business, and the boy took everything in stride.
Even though the girl had commitment issues, having seen families surrounding her torn apart over the years, she still found herself coming back to that boy every time. Maybe she felt that she was a glutton for punishment, or that she was just too scared to move on. One fact remained true: it was harder to push away from one another completely because of how close as friends the two were. They had clicked in a way that before they truly knew they were going to be in a relationship, they would be great friends first and foremost. The secrets and memories shared together rivaled those of even her best friends. Regardless, the couple continued on in their cycle of on-again, off-again.
But then, one day, something happened to change their lives. They were nowhere near perfect for one another, but for whatever reason they were still together. On that day they were on again, and in what the girl would refer to as "a good place". However, there was the lingering thoughts of what this would mean for them as they both stared down in shock at the positive pregnancy test before their very eyes. Once they had settled down, and the nerves had ended there had only been one thing left to say: "If you want to leave, I understand. If you don't want to have a child together, I understand. Just realize that I will have this child, once this child is born and knows you as its father you can't back out."
He never backed downed, and she changed her tune. She saw him for what he truly was in those few months leading up to the birth of their daughter. She had been wrong all along -- and she even admitted to it. While she knew she loved him to some degree she had never fully admitted to how much she loved him. It wasn't until she saw him hold their daughter that something in her clicked; she was tired of feeling as though she had to rely on only herself anymore. She was tired of worrying about the future instead of living in the present. She was tired of denying how much she truly loved the boy she had been with for years.
That's how it all started. It didn't start with a bang, but a fizzle. From the day I saw Trey as a father instead of a lover was the day I knew this man was the man to spend the rest of my life with. It took years to get to that point, to finally admit to something I was so scared of doing. His dedication to our family from the beginning had me, and I demanded a year later that he marry me. Alright, so maybe "demanded" isn't the best word to use, but I persisted. Forgetting tradition, I told him we were engaged and when we would be married. The two weeks leading up to our wedding were what I would have considered a rough patch then. I even said: "I don't care how you truly feel about me right now, but I expect you to tell me I'm beautiful and love me on our wedding day."
I don't know why people expect that the love doesn't go away in a relationship, but I'm here to tell you that IT DOES. There will be so many days, weeks, months where you can go without truly loving someone the way you did when you first met, first kisses, etc. Trey and I went through weeks where we barely spoke; not because we were mad at one another, but because we just lost interest in one another. Even through that we kept going, though. We promised ourselves we would not go out without a fight to the end.
And last year it seemed as though the fighting had begun. Maybe it wasn't the rough patches between each other that were the real threat, but it was the threat of having lost his grandmother and my brother. It changed us, it brought out the worst in us -- we were brokenhearted people trying to help mend each other's hearts. It was causing a rift because we were so down on ourselves, and so out of it. Then add an incident that got blown out of the roof and threatened to tear us apart -- we were still so broken then, and it only caused a bigger rift.
Our ship, so it seemed, was unsinkable though. We made it through, we forgave one another, and we mended each other's hearts the best we knew how. It was the discussions and talks we had on a regular basis with one another; the no-hold bars of deep conversation that kept us together. If one of us felt down, the other would talk us through it. We fought through it, and we came to a good place.
Then Jude happened. Handsome, wonderful Jude. My baby boy. Another loss, another chance for us to be torn to pieces -- but it turned out differently this time. Oh, I cried. I cried many times in those first couple of nights, but it was Trey there to comfort me every step of the way. He told me it was okay to cry, and okay to talk to him whenever I began to feel the slightest bit of sadness. It was Trey that made me see the bright side of things. We had been close before Jude, yes, but never as close as we were now.
It's 12:24 am as I write this, overcome with love for the man who not only gave me a new hope for my future, but also helped me reach goals I never expected for myself. He was there in the worst of times just as much as the best of times. He helped me start a family that I adore and love beyond words. Our marriage might not always be perfect like this, but tonight it is perfect.
Happy 2nd Anniversary, my love. It may officially be two years of marriage, but it's been nine of the most intense years of my life with you and I wouldn't trade it for all the gold in the world.
Forever and always,