Yesterday…

I’ve been officially married in the eyes of God, the law, friends and family for five days now. Nothing much has changed. But that’s to be expected – because we have been married to each other for over two years in our own eyes. We made that commitment then, to each other and have lived by it since.

It’s amusing how much has not changed. And how much actually has. The things I would have bet good money on changing after our ceremony are absolutely 100% the same. I’m still a perfectionist, and she is still the perfect person for me.

We’ve spent many units of space time together, traveling through this life with each other in the last 2+ years. We’re each other’s companion, staying side by side through all that life throws at us. She is by far much more my strength than I hers. We have grown together, she has taught me patience that no one else ever has, and has taught me to be calm. Her opinion is the first to matter to me in a long time. Maybe that’s what love is about?

She now refers to me as her husband, and I refer to her as my wife. These are not possessive terms as much as they are self-proclamations of attachment. I attach myself to her when I call her “my wife” – not the other way around. For so long, the left has been shouting wrongness and irrationality at my that I didn’t realize how much they were wrong, and how calling someone “my wife” would affect me positively.

I am not her property, and she is not my property, except that we give ourselves to each other and have bound our lives together, equally and have been acting as husband and wife for 2 years – only now we are legally and socially allowed to use the titles of endearment for which roles we play. Life is good, it is simple, and it is the most complex it has ever been, it is terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time. It’s a hell of a thing, and I’m so happy to be sharing this journey with the woman who calls me husband.

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