A Letter to My Husband on Our First Anniversary

Living

Sep 16

The origin of our first dance.

It was Spring Break a few months after we met. You convinced me I must go with you despite my excuses that I couldn't (money, study, homebody). You even drew a little picture of us to really bring your point home – stick figures in front of a sunset. I was the one with the long hair.

People said this trip could break us. They said we knew too little about one another. A week is too long so early on, they warned. Are you sure you should really be going with him?

I went.

We laughed. We fought. We had 10 too many drinks. We survived.

On the way home I rested my head on your lap. Listened to What You Thought You Need as the everglades blurred outside the window. You had your hand on my arm. It took me a moment to realize you were sending a message – tracing letters on my skin, just for me.

Well, I can't give you everything you want. But I can give you what you thought you need.

LOVE.

A map to keep beneath your seat you'll read to me in time I'll get you there.

But fold it up so we don't find our way back soon Nobody knows we're here.

My skin told on me. Goosebumps. You didn't think I knew the message you traced on me that day. Thought I was too wrapped up in my headphones to feel your letters. And I didn't tell you that I read each one in anticipation they would line up with the three words I had saved inside of me, for you.

Our first dance.

7 years later and we're near water again. We're listening to What You Thought You Need as the northern pines blur outside the window. Your hands are around my waist. You're looking at me with the promise of those three letters from long ago – the ones you've saved, just for me.

Can't take back things already gone but I could give you promises for keeps.

LOVE.

And I would only take them back if they become your own and you give them to me.

We could make this into anything, we could make this into more than words can speak.

You spin me around and I trust you'll hold me in this space as you do. The space I've saved, just for you. The unspoken words speaking volumes. Two souls finding each other on the open road without care to get to the destination.

And it's all for the sake of arriving with you.