Before you left, we were arguing a lot. There was so much tension and so many questions about our future... how would we survive financially, where would we live, could we handle having another baby? I worried about it all. And because you never were the type to appear worried, I imagined if I did not keep shoving it in your face, I would be worrying all alone and you wouldn't understand how important it was...to keep worrying? Seems ridiculous now.
Amidst one of those heated arguments, complete with sarcastic jokes thrown in that we both stopped to laugh at just a little bit, something stronger was said. I don't remember who said it or even what it was- but I think it must've been you. Something that sounded truly doubtful of my love for you. Something that sounded doubtful of our ability to keep this thing going.
And I stopped and heard my voice saying something that appeared out of context and took me by surprise. Three simple words- annunciated strongly with a pause in between each one. They reached back in time to a 23 year old girl and 22 year old boy and sifted through eleven years of living.