Saturday, June 1, 2013

When I Look At You, I See Myself.

Sometimes I look at my husband and I wonder how much life would be different if he was not who he is and I am not who I am.

It often amazes me that we actually ever met at all - and all of the things that had to happen before we met in order for us to come together in the correct moment. I guess it's all Fate. Now, if you know me at all, you know that I believe in soul mates. I often look at my husband and I can see that he is exactly me, mirrored in a male, Latino body and mind. Before our wedding ceremony, we met with the officiant and he asked us one simple question: "Why him? Why her?" At first, I joked with a silly answer but then I told him how I really felt - that my husband and I are the same, exact person. Sometimes it is scary how similar we are, and how I can know exactly what he is thinking or feeling without even saying words.

Now, my husband might deny this next fact, but I will tell you that it is 100% truth. We are both extremely, maybe overly, emotional people. I'd say that my husband tries to hide his emotions or pretend that he doesn't care about something, but I know deep down he is excited, or sad, or angry, or whatever feeling that comes with the situation.

Every single day I feel extremely lucky that I have my husband. If anything, he complements and completes me. He's supportive and helpful, encouraging and loving, wonderfully committed and equally as impatient as me. We spend countless hours playing games, laughing, competing against each other while watching Jeopardy, just being together in each others presence - all of which has solidified and cemented our already tight relationship.

Three years ago, I couldn't have imagined that my life would end up like it is now. Life seemed to have panned out exactly how it was supposed to - and after spending almost two years in a country that equally lovely and violent - my husband became my true love and my protector. To this day, he still says that he will protect me - even when we walk the safe streets of our apartment complex. There is nothing dangerous about it, but he falls easily into that role. It is traits like that which I know will make him a great father.

Last night, I had a moment where I shot up from my sleep not being able to breathe - I was gasping for breath, very scared and confused on what was happening. Now that I think about it, I think it was some kind of reflux from stupidly drinking water while laying down that settled in my esophagus rather than my stomach, but in that moment it was truly terrifying. It probably only lasted less than five seconds, but I've never seen my husband move so fast - he was literally out of the bed, running to the closet and grabbing the bucket in case I threw up in that short time. It was scary, but also equally endearing that my husband's first reaction was one to grab a bucket so we didn't ruin our carpet in case I vomited everywhere.

Sometimes I wish that words were enough to tell my husband how much I appreciate, care about, and love him. He is truly my knight in shining armor, my one true love, the man that I will have babies with, and grow old with together. I'm proud of him for doing all of the things he has accomplished in the past few years, especially being willing to move with me to a new, different country where things haven't always been the easiest. And when we argue, as all married couples do, we can only stay mad at each other for 10 - 20 minutes, tops. But it's always funny to me when he swears to "really get mad at me," when I know that it's literally impossible.

Because all I have to do is give him a hug and all is right with the world.

Love you, Javito.