Next weekend, I will be there to celebrate our anniversary in person, for the first time in the history of our relationship.
I can’t tell you how special that moment will be to me. I imagine you’ve got something grand planned. I imagine that you will have a repeat of some of the things we’ve done in the past; memories I hold dearly and cherish the thought of, but could do with some rearranging of the context in which they’ve occurred. For both our sakes.
As I write this, it’s T minus 3 days and counting, and then I’ll be in your arms again. This time, for forever. Imagine the sweet solitude of that first night, when we’ll wrap ourselves in each other’s arms and slip into a silent slumber. It may be the first time I have a peaceful, dreamless sleep in a long while.
And then we will awake and partake in our favorite tradition – dining at Waffle House. I’ll get chocolate chips and you’ll drink five glasses of lemonade. We won’t know who pays until the time comes. I have a sneaking suspicion that it might be me.
There’s a contentment that settles over my heart when I think about my future life with you. I imagine myself cooking dinner in the kitchen while you relax and shake of a hard day’s work. I can see myself, barefoot and pregnant – an image touted by some as the ultimate endorsement of the patriarchy – directing you on how to set up our little one’s bassinet next to our bedside. I feel the warmth of dozens of Christmases wrapping us on a cold winter’s night.
I see a love that grows deeper as we grow apart and together, separately yet undeniably intertwined. And each year we will ask ourselves, Would we still have gotten married, if we’d met each other today, as we are now? And the answer will always, irrevocably, be yes.
I feel content with you in a way I have not felt before. I trust you more than myself, to the ends of time. Whatever fear that swells in my chest, you cast it aside in a few simple words. Forever, and always, and eternity. In this life and the next. I have found you again already. I will always be with you.
I can’t help the stupid smile that spreads across my sappy lips. The same lips that will kiss you at the airport midnight this Friday.
I can’t wait to see you, love, and I cannot wait to see what this life of ours holds.
Prompt [2 of 2]: Compose a love letter to your object of feet-chill. Celebrate all of the reasons you fell in love with him/her/it in the first place. List everything positive you can think of, and nothing negative. Now write a missive. Vent all of your worries about the situation, and try to make a case against moving forward. I’ll bet you can’t come up with a single true deal-breaker, but giving your worries some air will feel good.
Read more at http://www.beliefnet.com/columnists/beyondblue/2009/07/4-ways-to-get-past-cold-feet-o.html#wEoF4ryyAoKJ8Lhz.99