Husband of my youth,
Did you know how it would be? When we were baby-faced and bright-eyed and well-rested did you think this is what it would look like? While we eagerly devoured pre-marital counseling books and answered enthusiastically and naively, “YES! I will love you forever and give you everything you need!” did you ever dream that our hands would loosen their grip only to grasp other tiny, hot hands of miniature people of our own creating? As I walked down the aisle toward you in my white dress, a mere nine months after meeting you, did you even fathom how deep and lasting our words would be? While you studied my face in the early morning hours of our studio apartment, did you wonder what lines might come to crease it? Would they be lines of laughter or lines of worry? Did you know I would soften in my middle and become marked with each and every inch I gained to bear those babies of ours? If you had known that I’m cranky when I’m sleepy and have a tendency to swear when I’m frustrated and I neglect cleaning the bathroom for as long as humanly possible and there’s nothing that I hate more than laundry, would you still have asked me to be your wife? My heart knows yours as though we had never lived apart- like we came into being as one and will go to our graves the same way. I feel as though you already knew all those parts of me that I despised and tried to hide and outgrow- you saw them and you knew them… and you loved me in spite of them. And even now, eight years and a million moments later, you choose me. Wild hair, dark circles, stretch marks, laugh lines, extra pounds, mistakes, swear words, unfolded laundry, and stubbornness, you choose me. You choose us… and it’s like you always knew…
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AuthorMy name is Chelsea. Redeemed. Wife. Mommy. Photographer. Light Chaser. I hope you find light here too. Archives
January 2016
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