I was here. In Segovia, Spain. 
See? That's my head and Segovia. Together, as they ought to be.
It was two years ago, almost exactly, that I got back from Spain. I went by myself, for a month, right before Mike and I got married. A few days ago I inadvertently found the emails that Mike and I sent back and forth while I was gone. I lived for word from him. During the evenings alone in my small apartment off Manuel Beccera in Madrid, I turned on sappy music and looked at every picture of us together over and over. The time in my apartment after we had gone to the symphony to hear Rach 3. I'm still dressed up and Mike is (seductively, I can say that now) casual in a hoodie, his arms wrapped around me. The pictures of us posing on the lifeguard tower on the beach in San Diego when I first went to his family's homestead. The first time I attempted to surf. I look like I've been whirled around in an egg beater (which the ocean practically was that day). Mike asleep on the couch over Christmas break when he came to meet my family. Over and over. I dozed off to sleep every night with his picture by my head. A devoted fiance. This last week it was strange to reread our emails, to get a glimpse of our relationship two years ago. Our words were full of fresh longing and unabashed mush (although Mike now claims they were actually written by somebody else...I sent him a few choice ones to remind him of the gush, but he claims that he was at least self-consciously cheesy, if authorship could even be proven...which it cannot). Coming up on our second anniversary, I feel astonished that love changes--that as I pined for Mike thousands of miles away, I couldn't possibly imagine how love feels now, how it reaches deeper, grows broader, expands past old boundaries of seeming fullness. I have a sense that the fullness only grows more full, that the boundaries continually expand to new vistas, that the river continues to dive deeper and deeper.
See? That's my head and Segovia. Together, as they ought to be.It was two years ago, almost exactly, that I got back from Spain. I went by myself, for a month, right before Mike and I got married. A few days ago I inadvertently found the emails that Mike and I sent back and forth while I was gone. I lived for word from him. During the evenings alone in my small apartment off Manuel Beccera in Madrid, I turned on sappy music and looked at every picture of us together over and over. The time in my apartment after we had gone to the symphony to hear Rach 3. I'm still dressed up and Mike is (seductively, I can say that now) casual in a hoodie, his arms wrapped around me. The pictures of us posing on the lifeguard tower on the beach in San Diego when I first went to his family's homestead. The first time I attempted to surf. I look like I've been whirled around in an egg beater (which the ocean practically was that day). Mike asleep on the couch over Christmas break when he came to meet my family. Over and over. I dozed off to sleep every night with his picture by my head. A devoted fiance. This last week it was strange to reread our emails, to get a glimpse of our relationship two years ago. Our words were full of fresh longing and unabashed mush (although Mike now claims they were actually written by somebody else...I sent him a few choice ones to remind him of the gush, but he claims that he was at least self-consciously cheesy, if authorship could even be proven...which it cannot). Coming up on our second anniversary, I feel astonished that love changes--that as I pined for Mike thousands of miles away, I couldn't possibly imagine how love feels now, how it reaches deeper, grows broader, expands past old boundaries of seeming fullness. I have a sense that the fullness only grows more full, that the boundaries continually expand to new vistas, that the river continues to dive deeper and deeper.
2 comments:
This takes my breath away. I love you both so much. Happy anniversary, my dears.
Amen and amen. This beautifully expresses what I've been thinking as we creep up on a year. Love is stranger and lovelier than I could have ever imagined.
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