I wandered out in the world for years, while you just stayed in your room. I saw the crescent; you saw the whole of the moon.

Three years ago, on a day that was warmer than today (but not by much), I married my best friend in a frozen field with his mom and my dad as our witnesses and my brother presiding, ordained by the Internet.

I don’t know why it was so important to me that we got married outside at Batsto, especially in the middle of January when New Jersey winters tend to be the least forgiving. I really believed we’d catch one of those coveted warm spring-like days in the dead of winter, our bodies able to soften temporarily from their defensive stance against the frigid temps. We got the sun, but at 37 degrees, it was not the balmy day I dreamed of, but solidfying our committment to each other in the stillness of the Pine Barrens felt perfect.

So much has changed already in a short time, and it’s hard to believe all the life that’s transpired over our three calendar years together (+ 6 months of courtship). Marriage is not easy, even with the best of partners. It takes a lot of patience, a lot of trust, a lot of room to grow together and separately, but it’s pretty incredible to see what comes from making that space, having the more vulnerable conversations, and remembering to enjoy all of the silly, brilliant, mundane moments despite of/because of the weight that comes with living. Especially after the heaviness and anxiety I was sifting through eariler this week, it feels nice to have this reminder.