the seven year itch

on may 20th, our seven year anniversary, we woke up early. i fussed with my hair. he tied a bow tie. our kids got dressed at the last minute so they wouldn't ruin their finery. we packed the car with certificates and rings and pink peonies from trader joes. we stopped at cathryn's for a quick shoot. because she is the kind of friend and photographer who is able to capture perfectly how alive you feel. so that you will see your pictures for the first time and you will start crying all over again.

we drove to a courthouse. inside were our parents and my amazing friend, ben, there to record the day for us. we waited in the lobby with other people dressed exactly like us. some fancier. some not. i was wearing sandals. i felt the most beautiful i have ever felt in my life. the rearview mirror of youth be damned.

we stood under an archway inside a tiny room with walls peppered with sponged on blue paint. i didn't know what side to stand on and all of a sudden i heard words along the lines of 'do you, krista, take bryan...' and i felt like a little girl in dress up clothes so i held his hands tighter. i kept my eyes on his and noticed my children in my peripheral vision, watching us, quiet. i was crying more than i expected. i was hovering over the government carpet and i willed myself back into my body because i did not want to forget what this felt like. i wanted to file it away for later so that when i need it, i can take the paper thin memory of that moment out of hiding and hold it up to the light, rub it between my fingers, inhale. 'i do.'

seven years. and i still get fluttery when catch a glimpse of him across the room, not aware i am watching him. he has taught me through example that there is nothing more appealing and inspiring in another human being than to be comfortable in your own skin. he tells me he loves me every single day. and i do not take it for granted. every time he tells me, i acknowledge it, i hear it, i am grateful for it. and i tell him, too. so that he doesn't ever have to wonder.

seven years and i am still surprised by him. a song he likes or a food he doesn't. and i remind myself that i cannot ever suppose to know every facet of him. that it makes me so happy for the future to know the person i am closest to in the world is still a book waiting to be read. that his chapters are still being written and that i get to see the first draft, always.

seven years, two babies together (and his teenage son who completes our little circle), and our wedding was not the best day of my life. because this is not the peak. things are not downhill from here.
the best day of my life hasn't happened yet.

i do.

(photos by cathryn farnsworth)