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1992. Roller coasters and glow-stick necklaces weren’t as amazing as spending time in those arms. The whole world faded away in a span of eight months.

I was used to not finding anything that lasted. I had come from a broken home myself.

I tried to enjoy the moments as if they would flit away on butterfly wings. I held my breath and expected he might call and ask for his cassette tapes back. He was only 21 when we met. He was like sunlight and ocean waves… filling my concrete city world with laughter.

Some guy on 6th Street in Austin told me when I was 16 that there was no way I would make it to 20 before I got married. Well, if he’s out there, I’m still waiting on my 20$. We were married 19 days after my twentieth birthday. And pretty soon I will have been married longer than I haven’t.

Twenty years of experiences, words, memories… twenty years of carving something new from the rough and unbending hardwoods we once were.

He still specializes in making me laugh. I read this poem I wrote back before I knew for sure he was “the one”… and it made me smile again.
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So high…

On top of this concrete mountain
The wind blowing through my hair –
Doesn’t ask where my feet stand
The stars reflecting in my eyes –
Don’t ask why I gaze at them
The moon hung in this velvet sky –
Doesn’t ask why I’m up so late…

So small…

The tiny world sleeping below me

No one sees the silent smile on my lips
As I stand on top of the world

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Fast forward twenty years later… here we are.

{ Happy ending still in progress. }

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Comments

  1. Michelle says

    Congratulations, Spritti! 1992 was the year we got married too, and like you, I kept waiting for the hammer to drop down and knock me back to that broken home existence where nothing good ever lasted.

    We have now been married for over 20 years and it has been beautiful by the grace of God!

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