often i catch myself watching my husband sleep. as i gaze at him i'm in awe that this man lying beside me is indeed my husband. sounds silly, perhaps much like the honeymoon stage. strangers speak of this dreamy surreal state as lasting a year; seems silly - a few months and it will be two years <we will celebrate with cotton>! 

i'm always in awe, with us things are so real, honest. with time i couldn't grasp why these feelings felt so strange. foreign, they had invaded everything i knew of marriage. divorce was standard. my parents split the summer i turned 5. both went on to remarry - each marriage was failure. i don't remember seeing my parents happy. arguing, fights, tears, resentment that was what marriage was made of.

myself, i always knew eventually i wanted to get married. it would be a done deal, no divorce. age 19, belly a beautiful canvas stretched thin; just the two of us.. marriage out of the question. by 21 a string-full of heartbreaks and let downs i just knew it wasn't going to happen. i was okay with that. bittersweet yes, I had a handsome boy to tend to.

fast forward three years and a few months, i'm lying beside love. soaking in this life we've built together and i'm scared, my heart shaky. i fear his playful rejection, i forge through and i simply ask. two weeks later we were wed. 

this amazing feat.. not as i had imagined growing up. much better. foreign, my marriage is strange in a lovely way!

         my grandparents : the epitome of marriage

p+L, Curious Belle