I woke up this morning, sluggishly turned to my left side, and there you were. There, on your side of the bed, lying on your back…still snoring. 6 months ago I woke turning to my left side and there, on your side of the bed, was my sister…not snoring. That morning you opened your eyes to a hotel ceiling.
6 months ago, I nervously made my way towards you. You stood, waiting in the front of a chapel surrounded by friends, family, a pastor and most importantly God. That day, we said, “I do.”
6 months later, I stare at you across the dinner table over a plate of burnt asparagus and “rubbery” chicken. Not just another ruined dinner, a ruined anniversary dinner. We laugh. Over the flicker of candlelight, while in our sweat pants, we click our glasses of bubbly together celebrating 6 months later.