Here’s a little story I wrote to Nick for our two-year anniversary. We spent the whole day in the airport catching our connecting flights back home from Alaska and didn’t have time to celebrate. I’ve tried to think of a way to explain what these last two years have been like for us, or for me, so instead I made up a silly little story. 🙂 It’s been a hard road with lots of changes and big decisions that neither of us ever planned to make. At the same time, I can’t remember my life before Nick. It’s like he’s always been a part of my soul. I love him. I honestly can’t imagine trying to exist without him…it all seems so strange. I’m sorry these thoughts are so scattered, but that’s what marriage is sometimes:)
Happy two years, Nick!
On the morning of July 18th, I stepped onto this old, rickety sailboat. The wood was dark and aged. The sail had seen better days. But the boat, the boat was well-loved and oh so inviting. You assured me the dents and scratches had been looked at and I could see your quick handyman skills had mended the knotted lines to set sail. I took one last glance at the beautiful and comfortable shore. The sand was covered in footprints from the day before. I squished the cold, fine grains between my toes. Oh how I love the sand. The waves gently crawling up the shoreline meeting the stillness of the morning air. Was I sure I wanted to give it up? Your hand reached out to me, breaking me from my train of thought. Your eyes glistening, eager to set sail. You looked toward the horizon and back at me, your smile getting wider with every passing second. I took one last look at the beautiful shoreline and stepped into the boat.
We put up the sail and rearranged the few belongings we had. I clenched to the map, hoping we would be headed in the right direction. I looked at you, totally free and relaxed. You love the ocean air and the slight breeze taking us wherever the wind pleases. The farther we sailed, the bigger the waves. You didn’t seem to mind, though. I, of course, looked down at my hands clenching the side of the boat. Where were we headed? I was unsure. The sunrise was approaching. Just look to the sun. A few wind storms rocked the boat, wrapping the sail around the mast. We spent time untangling the lines and opening the mainsail and jib.
Then of course, there were times when we couldn’t feel the wind at all. We were just sitting ducks, floating. All of this foreign territory: the boat, the map, the destination, the unseen ocean, all of it. I looked at you, you were calm. I love that you are calm.
Oh, the sun! The sun was rising and I could feel the warmth, brushing off the cool morning air. I closed my eyes and could feel the slight breeze coming off the water. I looked down to see the ocean had changed to a lighter shade of blue instead of the dark, murky gray. Look! You pointed to a few little creatures below the water’s edge. The world was waking up just as we were getting more comfortable sailing. I looked back for the first time since we left shore. The land was just a tiny dot on the horizon. I couldn’t believe it. Had we really sailed that far away? I looked back to see you smiling at me. I felt safe.
Who knows where we are and I am uncertain as to what direction we are headed, but we’re here. We’re afloat. We’re safe. And we’re together. I put the map aside and we both looked straight ahead to catch a glimpse of the morning sunrise. It was beautiful.
**Also, I didn’t even think, but these photos complement the story so perfectly. We
pretended to be models for a day to help cousin who was looking to build her photography portfolio months and months before we got engaged. If anything, I’m glad we got married so we could hold onto these photos. 🙂 #blessed