this morning I dropped Ben off so he could embark on a training trip to Florida with his team. while saying goodbye for extended periods of time is never easy, having to say goodbye the day after Christmas felt especially difficult.
I know he’s only gone for a week, and I know we are spending the rest of our lives together, but even that doesn’t feel like enough time with him.
since Ben is on a bus for 22 hours, he has a lot of time to do things he normally doesn’t do, like go through old emails. this afternoon he forwarded me a piece of writing I had written in the only creative writing class I took in college.
creative writing is not something that interests me and I remember how out of my element I felt in the class, especially because we shared so much of our writing out loud with the class to receive feedback. there was one day in particular where our assignment was to write a “word painting” about a significant emotional experience. it was the easiest writing assignment for me in the class, but it made me realize how much I struggle with saying how I feel out loud. writing about my feelings has always been easier for me. it’s why I place importance on giving birthday cards. it’s why I can’t bring myself to delete text messages with Ben, and why I took a screenshot of the first message he ever sent me months ago because it now takes 45+ minutes to scroll through our messages to get back to the beginning…
when Ben dropped me off after our first date, we sat in his car talking before I went upstairs. I remember not saying a lot, we were both just smiling at each other. I wasn’t going to make the first move, but I watched Ben smile shyly and bite his lip as I opened the car door to exit. previous to these text messages, Ben and I had only exchanged Facebook messages. we didn’t even have each other’s phone numbers until he was on his way to pick me up and needed directions. it is so crazy, beautiful, and wonderful how life works out.
I had actually forgotten about this piece until today when Ben reminded me it exists. I wrote it over a year ago, and it has been even longer since Ben and I first exchanged “I love yous,” but I remember this night, and how I was feeling, perfectly. the table we sat at while we drank wine and listened to music at the Veranda. stumbling into Ben’s apartment and finding the living room floor because the room was spinning. I remember feeling just as nervous as I was the night we went on our first date. I don’t think the Monarch butterflies will ever disappear, and I okay with that.
The three words you patiently wait to express at just the right moment in every relationship carry more meaning than all of the bottles of wine, the late night conversations, and movie dates.
It had been weighing on my mind.
It was one year after our very first date, a date that was filled with awkward, yet comfortable, silences. It had been a year full of discovering, navigating, and trying to understand what we were doing.
But, in that moment, I knew.
We were laying on the living room floor, buzzed from a bottle of shiraz, and even though we could have talked about anything, there were only three words I wanted to say.
I knew I had to say something, so I sat up straighter and pulled at my hair, uttering the very cliche line of, “So, I have to tell you something…”
His posture adjusted accordingly and his always-inquisitive eyes curiously looked up at me.
Everything about this night was so different than any time before. I had not minded the snow flakes that had fallen on us, or the bitterness of the air. The time seemed to pass both quickly and slowly, with the alluring promise of not having to set an alarm for the next morning.
I knew exactly what I wanted to say, but it felt like there were not enough words in the universe to convey exactly how I was feeling.
The neighbors footsteps above us seemed absurdly loud, and the ticking of the clock seemed to mimic how fast my heart was beating. I silently wondered how the rest of the world could keep spinning when I had something so important and monumental to say.
And just like all the best moments, it was fleeting.
And I do not think there will ever be enough words.
There are still awkward, yet comfortable, silences.
There are still bottles of wine, late night conversations, and movie dates.
But now there is this presence of so much more. There are so many avenues to still discover, navigate, and try to understand.
Our stories will continue to cross like lovers’ legs in the night.
I look forward to every bottle of wine, every late night conversation, and every movie date I will share with this guy for the rest of my life, but more importantly, I can’t wait to be this guy’s wife.