Sam and I celebrated our 6 years of marriage this year in January. It gets mushed in between Christmas, New Years and my birthday. Also mixed with a little resentment, heartache and bitterness too.We got totally ripped off, I know. We know.It's one of those days for me that I have such mixed feelings about. I'll start from the beginning.
We were married, four months after Carys was born and two days before Sam returned to school in AZ. Somehow we were coerced into believing and thinking that it would be much better (in God's eye's apparently) if we were married before we officially lived together. So we were. In the church we attended. At night. No family. No friends. Well except two which looking back, we needed because legally they were our witnesses. This is not to say we or I regret the decision to have them there. They are dearly loved but they shouldn't have been the only ones there.Get my drift? Anyway, I wore black. It felt like my funeral. Truly. I know how horrifying this sounds but really, unless you have walked in my shoes, you truly have NO IDEA! So we were married. January 6th, 2004. In the dark. All to honor God by not living together before we were married. It sounds so generic to me now. So obsolete. Really? I mean, to get technical, we were living together in San fran with our new born ,in the NICU for 6 weeks, in a family house, 7 blocks away. So I wonder if God frowned on that too. As much as he would frown on us shackin up again.
It all seems rather silly to me now. How I got so convinced really that being married under the same roof was BETTER than living together, not married. With all that was staked against us at the time.being married was the least of our problems. How we just needed each other so desperately. Just each other and how people, the church and family members opinions of how and when we should get married so greatly affected OUR DECISION. Because looking back, it was US who had to suffer the consequences of our actions. It was US who would be accountable to OUR FATHER. Not anyone else. It was US who, at the end of the day, had to come home and live with eachother. And somehow being married would make all the uglyness in that pure again. Yuck! It sounds just gross as I type this.
So forgive me when I pour my heart out about our anniversary every year. We were jiped. And I know it now. And now it's too late. And for me,the true beauty of what was precious and sacred about a wedding day was ripped from my hands all for the sake of premarital sex and not living together before marriage. Man, we had way bigger hurdles to jump. Really? We already had a baby remember? 9 months of wearing that BIG FAT SCARLET LETTER I tell ya, should have warranted a BIG FAT WEDDING if you ask me. Holy smokes.
Sam and I have rolled over a many a nights with the shoulda, coulda, woulda's with our nuptials. Now things remain changed forever and we get no take backs. Having Sam's best friend Frankie there will never be. All for what now? My best friends, Our family.People who should have been there to celebrate. Not people, church members thinking it would just be so much better if we were married before they lived together. Give me a break. I mean not to dish, but I wasn't the only one having 'relations' with my then boyfriend. You know who you are, I hope you are reading this. It's just I'm the only one who got caught, knocked up, that is. Oh the stories I could tell. I'm like a vault.
But for now, I tell my story. Or at least part of it. The one I hope to someday re-write. With beautiful thoughts and visions of what our wedding is to be. For now we celebrate our years of marriage. Rough at times, yes. What marriage doesn't have those fun times right? We have endured a many of rainstorms and down pours but we still stand. Together. So tonight as I rummage through old photo's of Sam and I, I ran across us in simpler times. Times of great love, fun and youth. Where people might have questioned our commitment or just what the heck Sam could possible see in her. All those voices fade... And all I see is us. Then and forever. And just for the record, while I might still sound bitter. I recognize my personal responsibility in all this. I was an adult at the time.I was not a minor, even though at times I was treated like a teenager who got knocked up. I was 23 years old I could have said NO WAY JOSE and we could have done something else. So in no way is this one person's fault. I just wish way back then that all the turmoil I was going through could have been lifted for just a second and I could have made a better sound judgment on what was best for us, not the group as a whole. I am now stronger and wiser and would never make the same mistake and get lead blindly again. I question everything now. Motive and opinion.
I love you more than you know. You are my personal cheerleader when I want to throw my pom pom's down and run off the field and hide. You are a fighter. And boy, I thought I was tough. Thank you for loving me in my ugliest of days. Thank you for always saying sorry, even when it's not your fault. I admire your hardwork and commitment to our family and our children. I only hope to enjoy our time together, love on eachother more with kind words and hearts. And grow old together. Really really old together. Hold our grand babies. And continue to write our love story.