Alex and I have been married for 8 years and I basically just figured out that I know nothing about him.
And while I was clearly not asking the right questions, I was also not telling him what I wanted. 
With a revelation like that, a weekend out of town sans youths was a solid idea.
 

How.
 
Okay well: we kinda were too busy chasing our collective dreams.
 
Funny right? But yeah, hustling kept our minds off a really difficult topic: just how different we are. 
 
But that’s also the magic spot.
 
Him and I are so absolutely different that as a result have a really wide net. We cover a lot of bases.
I’m all creativity and he’s all fabrication.
 
I dream it, he makes it. 
Without him I’m a lot of imagination and not a lot of drive. 
Without me, he’s a rocket ship waiting for a destination. 
 
So yes, we compliment one another. 
We also contrast each other. 
And on bad days, we clash.
For a long time, all I could see was the contrast. I started to think that we were too different. I became convinced we would be happier with other people.
 
I tried really hard to convince Alex, and thank god, he is a stone. The same reason I fell in love with him, and the same reason I thought I fell out of love with him. And the same reason we are together, in my pathetic attempt to run from our problems instead of fix them. He’s. My. Rock. 
 
Truthfully, I can be a flake. Worse, an insensitive hothead who hates being uncomfortable. But hey, I’m fun. I am also deeply loving and affectionate. Some might even say I’m nice on the eyes (when I shower). So if he’s the rock then I am choosing to tie this hot air balloon to him. And this rock lets me fly anytime I need to, and he grounds me when I need a break. Because everyone needs to come back down to earth once in a while to rest. 

So instead of shaming the salt for not being pepper, I finally started to enjoy what Alex saw all along: a good pair. Two entities that absolutely can function on their own, but choose to because together they are magic.

We also realize “yeah, we probably can find a different kind of magic elsewhere”. Alex could find a nice woman who’s easier to please, and enjoys the same things as him, but he doesn’t want to. He likes the contrast. He likes the excitement. He likes me. He loves me.

He chooses to love me unconditionally, everyday. He has been for years, I finally just caught the memo.

Then, in a tiny cabin in West Virginia, we had an unintentional 2nd honeymoon. We made plans for our second act. We healed, laughed, got it in, and relaxed.
 
We mapped out our new marriage. Keep what works, eliminate what is killing us, continue to love one another enough to surprise ourselves in changing when we never thought we could. 
Show our children an imperfect model marriage. One where sometimes we cry, kiss, argue, grieve, need space, etc. Someday, when they are adults with their own problems, we plan to show them our imperfections, and hopefully they learn from our mistakes. 
 
 
We also met an incredible family, who opened up their home and hearts to us. They prepared an unbelievable meal in their home and shared their stories, art and recipes. 
A charming, brilliant and precocious young man had me laughing so hard that I wrote down some of his best lines. 
 
A hometown burn:
“You’re from Pittsburgh? No wonder you think I’m inspiring” 

 
An impressive flex/icebreaker: 
“Oh and by the way, I have no allergies.”
 
An excellent way to roll with getting called out:
“Guess what? A chicken laid an egg in the nest box.” 
How do you know? 
“I don’t” 
 
A conversation changer that suddenly had me feeling self-conscious, but impressed by the power move: 
“My cowlick can hear everything you’re saying.” 
 
Excellent advice in general:
“If you get bit by a snapping turtle, don’t blame me. You gotta be calm.”
We love you kiddo. 
We promise to return with our human babies in addition to the puppers.

To Alex, the cutest boy I had ever seen until 2015: I love you madly.

Thank you so much for loving me back.