Thanksketching: Day 5

I am thankful for
late night stories,

early morning laughter,

a partner in crime,

my husband.

Five Years a Loser

Five years ago today I stood in the drizzling rain at the edge of Capitol Lake in Olympia, Washington and a young man got down on his knee to ask if I would marry him. I didn't say yes. I cocked my head and said, "Yeeaaah..." because hard consonants were hard. I mean difficult. They were difficult. 

In retrospect I feel that a more confident answer would have been unlike me. It was this moment I knew was coming but nothing really prepares you for when you're finally in it. Yes, I wanted to marry him. We'd known we wanted to get married almost from the very beginning of our relationship. Still, when that time comes and you have to actually face the thing you have been wanting, the decision seems much more overwhelming and incomprehensible than it did when you were just dreaming about it. 

And in that moment, regardless of how confident my answer was, I forged my loser-ness with his loser-ness. We were losers together, even before the wedding. Before the vows and the rings and then the road trip cross-country and the fights and confusion and the years of wedded insanity... we were first losers together when I said, "Yeaaah..." Because for the first time, we had this tangible thing that was ours. A relationship is between two people but it is much more fluid and unpredictable than an engagement. An engagement is definitively us, it has a goal for us made by us which will be carried out by no one but us. 

On that day, we lost our selves--because a marriage begins long before the vows. A marriage begins when two people agree to get married and consequently agree that every decision from here until eternity is made by both, not one. 

Sure, I decide when I want to write a blog and he decides when he wants to buy coffee and we all decide when we're going to use the bathroom or make phone calls or cuddle with the dog. But we become aware that all things, even those small things, affect the other person and we begin to take that into account. This is the mindset that begins before marriage: you lose your self to accomodate the us that has just been made. So if I want to write a blog but I need to fold laundry, I do the laundry first. If he wants to buy coffee but it will make me late for work he skips out on the latte. We sacrifice and lose out on things we want for ourselves in order to benefit us as a whole. 

And in all the world there is no one I am more thankful for, more blessed by, more willing to be a loser with. 

I love you, Joseph. You make us such incredible losers. 

Thirty Thanks, Day 20: This Man

Five and a half years ago I met a really nice guy. He had, literally, the bluest eyes I'd ever seen and this adorable crooked smirk. He was really good with kids and animals and had such an upbeat attitude most of the time. He was just so nice. Such a nice guy.

And this was the summer I decided not to date anyone, or even think about dating anyone, or even become friends with boys. I'd just had my heart broken, so I swore I would not make the same mistake again so soon.

Oh well, right?

So I met this nice guy and we fell in love and two years after that we got married and now I'm living happily ever after with this really nice guy.

Except that he's not a nice guy.

It's not because he's the opposite of nice. It's just, I really hate the word nice. When I was teaching, I admonished every student that used "nice" as a descriptor. "Nice" has lost all meaning. Nice is boring, nice is simple, nice is uninspiring. There are so many more words that convey something deeper than "nice." So... no. My husband is not a nice guy. But he is a lot of other things. I am so thankful for my husband, and all of the not-nice things he is.

I am thankful that he is hilarious, because he loves making me laugh and finds humor in everything. I'm thankful that he's focused, and that (even if it takes a while for him to get started) once he gets into a task he doesn't stop until it's finished. I'm thankful that he is gentle and kindhearted, because it means even in our worst arguments he never aims to hurt me or cause me anxiety. It also means that when he apologizes, to me or other people, he is sincere. I'm thankful for his creativity, which allows him to do well at work but it also inspires me in my own creativity. I'm thankful that he's so ridiculously handsome, and that he has an awesome beard (because without it he looks like a twelve-year-old.) I'm thankful that he is faithful--not just to me, but to God. For underneath all the stress and fear caused by this world, he knows who to really trust and serve. I'm thankful that he is adventurous and isn't afraid to try new things with me. I'm thankful that he's extroverted and outgoing, because it takes a lot of the pressure off of me when we're in social situations. (Phew!) And I'm thankful that he loves me, and that despite my human-ness he chooses to love me every day.

I'm grateful that he's not nice, too. Thanks, husband. You're incredible. <3 p="">