Eight Years Ago

This New Years Eve was our eighth anniversary. Unbelievable. I remember the afternoon of our wedding like it was yesterday. We were so young. I was so scared. I think I would have told you otherwise on that day, but in retrospect I was scared. How was I supposed to know if I was indeed making the right decision? There is no way to know if your gut is to be trusted in the long run. I know I cried all the way through our wedding..I'm glad it was just us there for that reason, after the short ceremony he carried me piggy back to the surf edge, and we pressed our palms into the cold water and sand. There in our early twenties, at the edge of America, on the cusp of a new year, at the begining of a new life together, at that moment I think I knew it would be okay. That is how I remember it now anyway.
Eight years and two little boys later my house is more filled with life, and warmth, and real people that I like than I ever thought was possible. I am short sometimes. Overwhelmed sometimes. TIRED sometimes. I haven't been alone without guilt since the oldest was born 6 years ago, and I can't remember sleeping like a real person. Really sleeping. Without the heavy ( but reassuring- welcome) sense of responsibility in the back of my mind, but what is also consistant is the amazement, the profound-ness, the luck, the joy, of being one person.. sad, and alone, and without purpose.. and meeting someone else, another person, someone not to be with, but some one I feel I BECAME with.... you see? Grew into an adult with. And now the children, 2 more that I never tire of. That are interesting. and fun. That are from us, like us, but not us. It is so strange. 1 then 2, now 4.
I know it is corny and cliche and all that.. but really. That is it. For the ups and downs, for the new lives, for the colds, runny noses and fevers, for the tight finances, the bad check pizza, the buffer from harshness, for the new couch we picked out together, for sharing the pod, doing the laundry, replacing my contact solution, loving me when I was Bodey, loving our boys, working through anxieties together, not doing day care, the sleepless four years, patience, believing in eachother, garbage collecting and taking out, getting attached to random pets, appreciating the impulsivity, appreciating the even-ness, putting our names in the songs you sing, tools, the base boards, finishing my projects, not being mad about the kitchen floor being torn up with out your permission, and the 6 layers you had to tear up, the garden, the apple tree, knowing we needed a second baby, ace-ing school, reading to J, his workbench, your work boots, not washing your jeans, listening to my shit, telling me about your day, letting me in on your secret anxieties, helping me with mine, for all that, thankyou M. It has been much more work, and love than I would have ever guessed that day eight years ago. I had no idea. Here is to the next chapter.