Time passes without consent
Jonathan and I just recently celebrated our 7 year wedding anniversary. And today is my last day as a 30 year old. Over the weekend, we got to have lunch with my best friend from HS and Jonathan’s best friend from college. (Fun fact, my MOH married his best man.) And it was one of those time warping experiences where you just can’t fathom where the time went.
It’s easy for me to transport back into my high school bedroom, into my 15 year old mind. I promised myself back then I’d never forget what it was like to be a teenager. I felt so misunderstood back then. So unheard. And yet here I am, a full blown adult unable to understand how we got here.
Our friends have son. A whole human child created from just the two of them. And in that conversation, you know, the one where you debate “the what ifs,” we came to an odd conclusion. If Sophia hadn’t invited Kelly to my house one Friday night, much to my dismay, there is so much in our lives that wouldn’t have been. Or, if Jonathan hadn’t stopped that afternoon in the Millbrook parking lot to see if I was okay. A whole human, a whole person wouldn’t exist.
They met because Jonathan and I invited each of them respectively on a spring break trip in 2007. Invited is probably too kind a word. We basically forced them to tag along. It was an amazing trip, packed full of hilarious inside jokes and memories we’ll hold on to forever.
I miss them often. We grew up. Got married. Became adults. But it’s nice to see that no matter how much time passes, how much life passes, some things are always truth.
I don’t know what it is about 7 years, but that feels like a lifetime. When I was a teenager, I immediately assumed people were ancient if they’d been married more than 5 years . I don’t know when we became the adults in the room. So it just goes to show you that the time passes without your consent.
Jonathan and I were listening to a sermon about marriage on the way home last night. The preacher confessed that his first 7 years of marriage were flat out awful. But he goes on to say that there’s something magical in the aftermath. There’s bliss inside the moment when you can look at your spouse and know you’ve made it through to the other side.
Instinctively, Jonathan and I gave each other a high five.
