marriage is wild.
you create an existence with a person who at one point was a total stranger.
who had their own little quirks, thoughts, and habits, and found a balance between your two sliding scales. just figuring it out as you go.
don’t ever let anyone tell you being married makes you co-dependent.
or it’s a just a legal document to bind you. because within that bind is where real life happens. where all the mess and magic will happen. days will be bad. days will be great. and most days will just be another day.
we can witness our partner have a panic attack, curled up in a ball on the bedroom floor, and sit with them calmly.
knowing full well you can’t cure what’s happening. but you can help them count their breaths and help them find their heartbeat back home.
we witness this, these heavy un-instagramable moments and continue to say, “Yep, I choose that. I choose to support this person for better or worse, sign me up for this forever.”
because the ‘for worse’ part we say during our vows isn’t really that bad.
the worse is recognizing when the party is done when friends come and go, you still got this person on your side of the arena. waiting for whatever battle is next. or just waiting to take in the view with you.
And you best believe y’all will some shit together.
you’ll be subjected to this person having to cycle through a 12 hour food poisoning crisis, with their face three inches deep into a toilet and you will still look at them and say “yes, you are still attractive to me, I still want to do things to you.” and that’s the for better or worse jumble.
don’t let them tell you marriage is for those who can’t be alone or that monogamy wasn’t intended for us because the world is gonna throw rocks at you (at the most inconvenient times!) and having another hand to grasp onto, even if it’s just to help you count your breaths in the dark, is all you will need to quiet the chaos for at least a few moments.
loved ones will pass, interviews won’t go as planned, disappointments will stack up, and you’ll be in the middle of the ordinary that is life. but you get to look up, see that person and know that they see you. however, that looks for you.
marriage won’t be fireworks.
it won’t be extravagant or even worth explaining to someone. but these little moments. this ordinary, unremarkable, daily ones, those you can sign me up now and for another 60 years.
and when I’m 150 and a hologram on a rock, I’ll still tell you, find the person who will lay on your bedroom floor with you at 3 am when you feel like your heart might burst from your eyeballs. find the person who will connect the dots when all you see is a watercolor print.
the person who calls you on your bullshit (and you know you got some bullshit.) that would still see you, really see you, 11 years later at the same crowded party and say silently to themselves, “Yup, that’s it. Sign me up for all of it.”