Although I don't remember exactly, I'm sure that somewhere in the hustle and bustle of wedding preparations and final fittings 22 years ago this week, there was a moment when I stopped and wondered how, or if, my life was going to change. I remember so little of the preparations at this point--just over a week away--but I do remember being so wildly happy about the plans we'd made, the dreams we'd shared. I vaguely remember being a tad concerned about the forecast, but no matter what, despite being very, very young, I knew we were about to have the greatest adventure of our lives.
And it has been.
We've had ups and downs, but that's exactly what we signed on for: "For richer or poorer, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live." I told Guy once that when he really is getting my goat, I think of that day, and saying, "I do" in front of all those people who managed to get to the Church (the weather definitely looked worse than it was. I swear!) and that's all I need to remind me that some promises are more than just immutable; they are resilient and impenetrable.
At a rough spot, I remember Guy asking me what I was doing to improve my attitude. (We were both in quite a cranky place. Each of us had lost a parent, and both of us were stressed about life, income, everything.) I came across a bit of advice for those who like to write, and, though it sounded morbid, I decided to give it a try: write a eulogy or obituary for the one you love. The article I was reading argued that in such pieces, there can be no negativity, so the good things will resurface, distill, and become focal points. I didn't hesitate. I wrote the following, longhand, folded it up in my planner, and proceeded to forget I had written it. You see, as I wrote, I realized I didn't need the reminder: I am in love with my husband. Pure and simple. I found this yesterday when transcribing birthdays from that old planner from a few years ago into my new planner. Guy never saw it; and I was pleased to find that my heart feels just the same today.
Guy took my breath away the first time I saw him, and continued to do so. That first time, I was struck by the confidence and bearing that he possessed -- I could hardly believe that he was only my own age. Where I was confident in myself, he was determined regarding his future: he had a plan, a dream, and knew how to achieve it. I had an instant crush.
Through him, I learned that exercise and sports can be fun. He taught me how to throw a football, catch and hit a softball, shoot a basketball. He inspired me to take tennis lessons, learn to swim (effectively), and, eventually, to dance again.
I know that I have always driven him crazy: I talk too much; I clam up when I get grumpy; I cry easily; I hate to get frustrated--so I either avoid things I'm unsure of, or I blow up--neither of which serves any purpose other than embarrassing myself. Nevertheless, despite getting irritated with me, Guy always managed to touch my hair, my hand, my back, and calm me.
Because he treated me with respect from the very first, I became, or rather, found that I was, a strong woman. Whereas many of my thoughts and ideas had previously been either ignored or humored, with Guy I had an interested audience. He would listen to the unusual connections I make, and ask questions that helped to clarify and expand my thoughts. Mostly those conversations amounted to notes on scrap paper, which I can see may also have frustrated him to no end, but for me, they were always extremely enlightening; sometimes revealing larger truths, and sometimes resulting in pure silliness.
Guy does not make me whole. I can function well without him because of the person he has helped me to become. He is not the only person to have shaped me in some way as an adult. He is not the only person I turn to when I need something. Yet with him, I continue to become. It is because of Guy that I want to continue to evolve with a purpose. It is because of the life we've shared that I work toward improving myself. At the same time, I am fully aware that I can, and would, continue to grow even without him. I enjoy the effort all the more because Guy is a part of it. I love him. -- I have since I first saw him, and cannot imagine stopping, for any reason.
Why do I love him? Because "I do."
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