Joy is a Language All its Own (Happy Second Anniversary)
Today marks two years since we gathered with friends and family under a live oak tree and said our vows. My heart was beating so fast...the feeling was exhilarating and pure joy. I loved him. And he loved me. Two people--imperfect, flawed, not so important in the big picture of the world...and yet, to each other, the other meant everything. We made a promise that day--to see the best in each other, to forgive, to trust. In the two years since, we have continued to grow and change and love. We have started to speak in ways that go beyond talking--with gestures, looks, and expressions. He has made me realize that joy is a language all its own. And I am grateful. When he prepares dinner while I'm at yoga, he is saying he cares about hearing about my day and relaxing together. When he emails from work or calls right before night class (though we will have seen each other just three hours ago), he is saying that I am so important to him. When he laughs at my ridiculous made up songs about my cats, he is saying that he gets me. That he recognizes my craziness, but he finds it perfectly sane. When he holds me, he is saying that I am safe. When he puts his hand over mine, he is showing he is here with me, allied with me in whatever the situation is. When he looks at me this certain way that I know means he loves me, I know he always will. Not because I'm perfect, not due to looks, accomplishments, or anything circumstantial...but because we speak the same language. Because we always have, but we never found anyone to speak it to until we found each other.
I love you, Brendan. Here's to a lifetime of speaking and listening. Happy anniversary.