A wandering mind produced this out of struggle and love.

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Cauldron burn and cauldron bubble like the roiling, frothing ocean of the heart. Watch the pink sunrise set and disappear, shattering its beauty into a thousand fragmented stars and a thousand more broken, empty spaces, leaving only the dark cold night to play tricks on the mind.

But somewhere in those empty spaces we find the night in all its beauty, and it leaves us stunned by the wide open space of an inconceivable universe, by the boundless explosion of stars and fire and color until it all spirals back, falling in on itself and collapsing in the curve of the earth into a single bright spot—your eyes. A reflected radiance shines out of them, and I’m lost falling into them where I know, I know with absolute certainty that you’ll catch me and pull me in to a deep, comforting sleep in your embrace.

When the sun peeks through, you’ll be there, skin warm, and I’ll be there, looking up at you, smiling. No words needed. A single glance sends thousands of fragmented memories racing through my head and I know that I’m the lucky one. Surrounded in the bright light, sheltered from a cruel world, we exist. We are. We warm each other, calm the turmoil of the heart into a shining honey that threatens to spill over and drown us in sweet, sweet love. You show me how pretty the world is with every moment, every dance in your step, every still glance, every peal of laughter from glowing bells.

It’s taken time to polish those bells, to clean them after they were lost in the mire, but they’re here now, having survived wars and bombs and invasion. And now they’re mine to defend, protect, and care for. They’re scarred, scratched, and the sound has changed over the years, but still I know how to make them ring vibrantly, sending rays of glorious yellow-red happiness awash over my world. You are my world. I’m no Atlas; I can’t hold you for eternity. But I’m damn well going to try, to lift you up and bear you into the sky to show you the freedom of flight and the open expanse of blue and white that welcomes you and your angelic presence.

I’ve gone long enough waiting for the right words, the right friend, the right sounds, colors, heartbeat. You sing to me sweetly, never letting me go, and you are the right everything. You always have been. Patience is only a virtue sometimes, so today I’m done waiting—I’m going to stop standing still and run towards you to where I belong. I’ve seen the shattering of night, the fragmenting of sunsets, the scarring of bells, and still nothing stirs in me an emotional well like looking at you. Every time I see you, it’s a beautiful symphony in my head, a thumping heartbeat in my veins, a colorful supernova waiting to bring forth new life. You may think I blow you out of proportion with my grandiose descriptions and sweeping pictures of you and your presence in my life, but I assure you that all of this rings true for me every single day, with every glance, ever laugh.

It really is that simple. Love is a fight to find out which imperfections we can live with, and marriage is just a choice we have to choose to make every day. We’ve made it every day so far, by getting up and remembering each other, by being there for each other in every single moment, by choosing to try again. And I know I’m going to keep making it, one way or another. For now, patience is a virtue. We have all the time we need for whatever is to come. We have lives ahead of us that could fragment in a thousand different directions and love that can stay true through all of them. We don’t need to tackle the future now. But I want to tackle the present, today, with you by my side. I want to do everything with you and for you, and I’m going to if you’ll let me.

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