One of my New Year’s resolutions is to write more. Resolutions are tricky, they slip out from behind your lips with ease; some are kept, some abbreviated, some serve as mere guidelines instead of mantras to follow as the year goes by. I feel like the entire year has slipped away from me, and I can’t recall what, if any resolutions I had for 2012.
So writing is my 2013 New Year’s resolution. Let me clarify; writing more in 2013. Writing is THE one major component that has eluded me for the last few months. It’s not that I haven’t been, it’s that I haven’t been frequently. All my skills are still there, but I so rarely get an opportunity to employ them, I feel myself slipping. I have been so caught up with the day-to-day, that I’ve forgotten that now is the time of year for submitting to publications. And when I realized this, I couldn’t remember the last time I sat down to write a personal essay or story. Sure, I’ve been blogging, but blogs are only short snippets that are achieved in just a few hours. I haven’t been able to feel the anticipation and excitement I feel when I’m working on something I’m proud of; nor have I had the gratifying triumph of working on a piece for several days and keying the final period.
My other resolution is to fall more in love with Amber. Today marks 2 years since our first date. For those of you know us, you might think, “I can’t think of two people more in love.” And yeah, sure, that’s true; but there’s always room for more love. There’s always finding new things to appreciate and love about one another. And I plan to do just that.
Amber always wants me to write about her. I’m convinced that part of her really wants to see my love spelled out for her in literature. She’s my biggest fan, and I love her for that.
“Whatchu gonna write about; are you gonna write about me?” Amber asks each time I sit down to write. She teases, partly because she knows I rarely divulge what I’ve been working on, and because I haven’t written any stories about her recently.
So today, Amber, I’m writing about you. Simply having the ability to sit down and write is in part, because of you. Because you believe and because you trust and because you love, I have confidence to return to my laptop and continue to produce amorous words and phrases and tales of our adventures and fondness for each other. And when I return to you, you smile at me with a glow as if I have just made your day better. And after reading this, you’ll undoubtedly find errors (that as my chief editor, I appreciate you doing).
Two years together and aint love grand? It has both flown by, and felt like ages since we first met on that crisp January afternoon. I did not expect that the girl who poked and prodded for the initial few hours of our first date would be the one that would fill me with unlimited happiness. If that was how you flirted with all the boys, you were probably quick to scare a few off. One bad crack could have made or broke us, but fortunately you had an infectious smile that persuaded me to stay.
History has taught me that the years after the first year in a relationship are the hardest; they involve the most arguments, the most complacency, and the love mostly slowing down. We however, seem as though we are speeding forward; leaps and bounds beyond what normally happens at the two-year mark. I am both a romantic and exceedingly cynical about love at the same time. But in the end, old people holding hands makes me smile. And every time I hold your hand, I remember how a simple gesture like handholding can make you remember how much you love someone.
How easy it is to forget about the little things. After all, it’s the details that are the most interesting – even if they are often forgotten.
A few months ago, we conversed about what each other would be as a perfect bite. Are you sweet or savory, Amber? Maybe the perfect bite of you doesn’t even include one of your favorite things. Perhaps the perfect bite is the ultimate surprising morsel. When I stopped to think about the perfect bites, it wasn’t about whether it had kale in it. It was that we were together. It was us, chasing a sunset and a perfect summer salad. It was us, picnicking after a raging argument. It was hippie salads and perfectly grilled tri-tip on a camping grill. It was us, peeling fava beans and us, shucking oysters and us, grilling pizzas and us, eating burritos after our fake wedding.
And that’s what it ultimately boils down to: not trying to achieve perfection, but enjoying every moment that we have together, and making in as perfect as possible. Sitting on the couch and watching a TV may not always be the most amazing option, but sometimes, you and I and a bottle of wine and an episode of Modern Family may be all we need to be happy (that night).
The brilliance of our relationship is in the details that few others actually see: the goofy smiles and funny voices; the inside jokes, and the laughter, and finding the best in each other and ourselves by being “us.”
Anniversary Menu (any old way you like it)
Beets: roast beets till they are tender and serve in any way you wish
Squash: roast any squash you love (for us, its delicata) serve on its own or in a salad, or pasta, or risotto, or any other numerous ways.
Fish: fish is versatile; sauté it, bake it, fry it, barbecue it – just don’t over cook it
Dessert: Cookies? Cake? Pie? Unexpected cinnamon roll leftovers-turned bread pudding? Dessert caps the night off; make it sweet and memorable.
Wine: Or beer. Just grab something that has a memory attached to it, like a bottle of Muscat from Sokol Blosser.