2.10.2014

The Truth Is...

The truth is...

I have a lot that I want to say about yesterday. Much more than usual.

But I'm also hesitant.

You see, I'm not sure how much I should share on here, what I should share on here, how I should share on here. This is very new, uncharted territory. Photos are one thing. They are personal, but not too personal. Yet, how can I really share yesterday's picture without the whole story?

I also know that people are struggling, and I don't want to paint my life to look like something that is nothing but happiness and pretty pictures, because it isn't. If I have a really good day, I don't want to parade it around and brag about it. But I also don't want to hide it. That might be even worse than painting an overly happy picture of my life.

So with that preface, I'm just going to go for it.

Because I have to bask in moments like yesterday. Because I don't get yesterdays very often.

We had a lovely, lazy Sunday yesterday.

Where we had an idea for a children's book that we are going to write together.
Where we dreamed of our future home.
Where we reflected.
Where we crafted together; him using a dremel, me using thread.
Where everything felt slow.
Where everything felt right.

--We woke up and looked back.

We started at the beginning, at first we joked about our younger, youthful selves, and how silly our love used to be. We talked and realized how amazing it is that we endured it all and are still together. How much our love has evolved, about the craziness of our first months, first year together. I wanted someone to surprise me, someone fearless to distract me. Someone fun and interesting and different. Someone who wasn't afraid to climb buildings and yell in public. He was all of those things. He just wanted someone to play guitar with.

We talked about how amazing it is that it worked. We didn't even know what we wanted. We didn't know what to look for. We weren't thinking about long-term anything. We just wanted to drink and be loud and be young. How could something like that turn into a companionship? A marriage? The strong, stable, soft love that we now know? That two naive, reckless 18 year olds could somehow morph into two people that would end up being us -- two people that want entirely different things than those 18 year olds wanted, yet we still want them together.

--We woke up and looked here.

We talked about where we are now. What we are doing. Us. He is 24 years old, and I will be in 6 days. We studied each others freckles, blemishes, and brilliances. The perfections and imperfections. His first grey hair right at the corner of his forehead, the only one of its kind. My unshaved legs that I jokingly say keep me warm. We stared at our home and the things that fill it, our books and our blankets and our bare feet.

--We woke up and looked ahead.

We dreamed of our future house. The one that we will own. We dreamed of the colors we would paint the inside walls, of the front porch, and the wood shop in the back. We talked about writing stories for our future children, and how an imagination is the best thing you could ever give your child. We dreamed of their names and what they would be like. How they would change us, and how different we will be then.

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So my photo today may not be very interesting or creative. It may be simple and I may be a bit repetitive lately. But there is a story behind it.

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Love,
Your friend, Breezy

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