I have this habitâyouâll find out soon enoughâof clicking random pictures at the most random moments. Not the pretty ones for Instagram, not the ones with the golden-hour lighting or picture-perfect smiles. No. Iâll click when youâre doing absolutely nothing at all. When youâre slouched on the couch, staring blankly at your laptop screen, hair sticking out in five directions. When youâre scribbling notes in your terrible handwriting, not even looking up. When youâre just existing.
Because I think those are the moments people never notice. The ordinary, nothing-special moments that somehow feel like everything. Like proof that youâre real and youâre mine and I got to see you in the spaces no one else does.
And, full disclosure, I am a certified crybaby. The tiniest thing can set me offâa random book quote, a dog video, a song lyric that hits just right. But Iâll never cry in front of you. No. Iâll go cry in the bathroom like a dramatic movie heroine, wash my face, and then casually tell you later, âOh yeah, I cried about it,â as if I didnât just fall apart two hours ago. Youâll probably look at me like Iâve lost it.
Also⌠if I ever have to stay away from you for more than 24 hours? I will cry. Like, actual tears. But you wonât know. Instead, Iâll send you memes. The stupidest, dumbest memes I can find. Because somehow, âI miss youâ feels less terrifying to say if itâs hidden behind a sad cat or a random Spongebob joke. Itâll be my little secret way of saying, âHey, I miss you so much it aches, but hereâs a frog on a unicycle instead.â
I think thatâs what loving you will be like for meâmessy, quiet, a little ridiculous, but so full it overflows anyway. Like trying to keep the ocean in my hands, failing miserably, and laughing about it with you.
So yeah. Thatâs me. Your chaotic, crybaby, meme-sending, random-picture-clicking wife-in-progress.
Signing out before I get any cheesier,
Your future bathroom-crying, meme-spamming photographer of ordinary moments