We’re Going to Make It, You and I.

We’re going to make it, you and I.

You married a girl with stars in her eyes, and dreams in her belly. A girl with an image in her mind of what romance was supposed to look like based on twenty-three years of romantic comedies, books about knights in shining armor, and long lists of all the attributes you would contain. At times you felt like she was measuring your height beside a mysterious mark. One that you weren’t sure even existed this side of heaven.

We’re going to make it, you and I.

You and your mischievous spirit, and her with her quick comebacks. You with your dancing dark chocolate eyes, and her with her eyes which seem to change color daily. Her shoulders that bow under the weight of worry, and your hands equipped to work out the knots in her shoulders.

We’re going to make it, you and I.

An unlikely pair some said, but we knew. Somehow this homeschooled Midwestern white girl and this public schooled Tongan brown guy would work. Would thrive. Our noses are so different, and we are constantly comparing. Yours is flat and wide, mine is, as you like to say, “pointy”. These differences only seem to round out who we are. Fill in the gaps.

We’re going to make it, you and I.

Every time one of us makes a mistake we remind each other that we are in our first year of marriage. “We’re still figuring this thing out” we tell each other at the bank, and in our apartment, and in our car. There’s room for mistakes here. Room for growth. Room for glory when we succeed. We pinky promise to do better.

We’re going to make it, you and I.

With the help of a slow cooker to ensure meals. With a thousand conversations, and a million prayers. With you holding me when I am sick, and rubbing my back. With me running to the store for more coconut milk for your shakes. With you cleaning the bathroom, because you know I hate doing it. And me washing the dishes, because likewise. With a plan A, and a plan B, and a new start on Monday when plan B wears thin. With the help of friends, and mentors, and neopolitan ice cream.

We’re going to make it,you and I.

Dancing slow in the living room. Singing impromptu duets in the car. Fighting about things that matter, and some that do not. Building a home out of Goodwill finds, wedding gifts, accented with grace. A home rich with your music written while you sit beside me, and my words crafted next to you.

We’re going to make it, you and I.

This week, next week, and the week after that. Through blizzards and thunderstorms and hot, dry summers. Through student loans and grad schools. Through babies crying in the night, and mornings that come too soon. For the days when the light shines, and days when the fog closes in.

We’re going to make it, you and I.

I used to have a list of everything you should be, and then I met you. And I began writing a list of everything I should be, instead. Because you blew the list right out of the water, hon, and that imaginary Future Husband I built in my head, has nothing on you.

Comments

  1. Love this post. Your creative writing is always so good! And it is a sweet reminder to take note of the everyday conversations and memories in the first few years of marriage. I don’t feel the differences between my husband and I like I used to, but goodness knows there were/are plenty!! haha. And as for the “we’re still figuring things out” motto– good on you. That is such a great, grace-filled attitude. We have moved a lot, and every time we live somewhere new, there are new frustrating mistakes that we make purely out of ignorance. Like you said, it always helps to have your spouse remind you that it’s ok!

  2. So beautiful! I love the very end – instead I write a list of what I should be. It’s so easy to write what we want our future husbands to be when, in reality, God knows exactly what we need and instead we want to become a better person for our man. 🙂

  3. Love, love, love this Bethy. I can assure you, the future wife he built in his head, has nothing on you. You both are well and truly blessed.

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