Saturday, August 15, 2009

With Witnesses Watching



I am 25, almost 26-years-old, and I have loved him 2,139 days. And if I die on my 100th birthday, I will have loved him 29,253 days. That is 80 years, one month and two days.

With witnesses watching, I will promise to love him in good times. In bad times. To love him in sickness. And in health. When our bare feet decide to dance spontaneously across from one another. When an argument silences him and makes me scream louder. When his intestines curl into knots and I have no remedy to untie them. When our sleep habits continue to prove us youthful as we spend many nights not sleeping.


In forty-one days, I will promise to love him until my heartstrings play only silent songs of stillness.
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