Today, after spending a suffocating fortnight at home, Mike and I decided that I can go out. I can sit, stand and walk small distances without hurting so much, and we did not want to waste the cinema tickets for The Amazing Spider-Man 2.
Getting in and out of the car was a chore, I felt like an old lady having to hold the grab handle and positioning my legs awkwardly so I don't suddenly twist and strain my waist. Walking was painfully slow, with the pace I was in, an ant or a turtle could probably outwalk me. Standing for long periods of time waiting for the e-plus woman to give us our ticket was tormenting.
You held my back getting out of the car; you found the nearest available parking slot to the mall entrance; you held my arm as I walk in a pace slower than that old lady (that you jokingly said I should ask to race); you carried my bag (despite our staunch advocacy as a couple that women who carry around tons of shit inside their purses should be able to carry their own purses and not emasculate their boyfriends/husbands with stupid rhinestoned, sparkly, pink purses); you stopped each time I said that things are starting to get painful; you were very protective of me, reminding me to be extra careful as people might accidentally bump me even how careful we try to be; you bought me my favorite subway sandwich; you treated me to frozen yogurt so I can sit peacefully in the kiosk while you queued and paid the bills in the bank; you made me stand in the mall entrance so I don't have to walk again to the car and you picked me up, valet-style.
I'm very happy coming home -- despite all the tragedies that found its way in our usually action-comedy life -- that you are with me, holding my hand. I'm gonna throw in the waterworks as well when I say that today I realized that you meant what you said that first day of March, two years ago and eighteenth of December, four years ago. The grammar nazi in me couldn't help but notice the mispronunciation of the word poorer into foorer, and it always brings Adolf Hitler into the mix; for I was a Nazi and you unconsciously just said fuhrer (Fuhrer in German means leader which was what they called Hitler). You occasionally have those inevitable p-f and b-v deficiency; after all, you are a civil engineer, not a call center agent.
But I remember how you said to me twice as a couple, that you'll be with me "for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health". I just realized that we are a walking proof of those vows and for that I'm very thankful for you. Prior to our wedding, we had an engagement shoot, we chose Mr & Mrs. Smith as the theme because we love action movies, we love Brangelina and we know that love is NEVER a walk in the beach, a stroll in the park, nor a picnic made in heaven; love is battlefield and we'll wear our battle scars proudly with every war we face together.
I'll marry you a thousand times over if our lives permit it, even if it means that we end up like Ellie and Carl. Just the two of us, holding hands.
Getting in and out of the car was a chore, I felt like an old lady having to hold the grab handle and positioning my legs awkwardly so I don't suddenly twist and strain my waist. Walking was painfully slow, with the pace I was in, an ant or a turtle could probably outwalk me. Standing for long periods of time waiting for the e-plus woman to give us our ticket was tormenting.
You held my back getting out of the car; you found the nearest available parking slot to the mall entrance; you held my arm as I walk in a pace slower than that old lady (that you jokingly said I should ask to race); you carried my bag (despite our staunch advocacy as a couple that women who carry around tons of shit inside their purses should be able to carry their own purses and not emasculate their boyfriends/husbands with stupid rhinestoned, sparkly, pink purses); you stopped each time I said that things are starting to get painful; you were very protective of me, reminding me to be extra careful as people might accidentally bump me even how careful we try to be; you bought me my favorite subway sandwich; you treated me to frozen yogurt so I can sit peacefully in the kiosk while you queued and paid the bills in the bank; you made me stand in the mall entrance so I don't have to walk again to the car and you picked me up, valet-style.
I'm very happy coming home -- despite all the tragedies that found its way in our usually action-comedy life -- that you are with me, holding my hand. I'm gonna throw in the waterworks as well when I say that today I realized that you meant what you said that first day of March, two years ago and eighteenth of December, four years ago. The grammar nazi in me couldn't help but notice the mispronunciation of the word poorer into foorer, and it always brings Adolf Hitler into the mix; for I was a Nazi and you unconsciously just said fuhrer (Fuhrer in German means leader which was what they called Hitler). You occasionally have those inevitable p-f and b-v deficiency; after all, you are a civil engineer, not a call center agent.
But I remember how you said to me twice as a couple, that you'll be with me "for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health". I just realized that we are a walking proof of those vows and for that I'm very thankful for you. Prior to our wedding, we had an engagement shoot, we chose Mr & Mrs. Smith as the theme because we love action movies, we love Brangelina and we know that love is NEVER a walk in the beach, a stroll in the park, nor a picnic made in heaven; love is battlefield and we'll wear our battle scars proudly with every war we face together.
I'll marry you a thousand times over if our lives permit it, even if it means that we end up like Ellie and Carl. Just the two of us, holding hands.
