I'm sweating in this picture, in my handmade 60-year-old heirloom dress, and I think I had actually just made a face at him about how gross it was our two perspiring foreheads were touching right here. Fortunately, Maggie just knows how to make us look a lot more sophisticated and romantic than we really are. At one point in the middle of the ranch where we were shooting I just ripped my spanxs down and stepped out of them. I couldn't take them or the heat any more.
I suppose I'm sharing these dirty details because details are what make up the moments that make up a real marriage. Marriage isn't that picture up there ^ even though it's beautiful (if I do say so myself). It's what's going on behind the pose, in the eyes, between the hearts. Some of that is beautiful, but a lot of it is hard. Hard work. (Trust me, we worked hard to look just that good.)
Our first year celebration felt like cheering for the hurdlers who make it through to the end of their sprint, but knock down every single hurdle in the process. I did not feel like a winner at marriage our first year, except that we survived. It wasn't horrible, but it was much much harder than I expected. I was glad to have that first year behind us.
This year, in comparison, felt like a reward. We are a better, stronger team. Sometimes I still worry our differences are insurmountable, that we will always bicker like tweens, but the reward of buddyhood is enough to quiet that doubt. That and a whole lotta love.
Cheers, darlin'. You are the best thing.
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