A Memoir on Memoires

Looking back on it, it was always obvious she was my soul mate. My wife, my person, the love of my life, the caramel M&M’s to my salty cinema popcorn. But it was amazing finding it out.

I remember how she looked the night we first talked. ‘Talked’ stretched as far as proverbially allowed to include snide remarks made to reality TV in a slanted living room flat. Long hair hiding her cheeks. Stealing glances, verifying if she was laughing at my jokes; pity or not, I’d take it.

I remember getting drinks on the day of love.

I remember it being so stiff, unfortunately not the drinks. Nervousness protruding outwardly as mechanical. Chocolates melting on tongues, foggy mugs.

I remember walking on a cold winter’s day, arctic breath speaking. Hot mist from red lips. Falling for not only what she said, but how she said. It was blistering cold that day, thank god for her warmth. Her depth, a cozy quilted blanket encompassing me with ease. Each etched quadrant, a novel of experience for which to embrace. Leaving her at the door, and not wanting it to close.

I remember sharing drinks and smiles. Sweaty pillows and baggy eyes. Jittering jolts and scented candles. Main street promenades and nights that turned so bright I swear it were day.

I remember curbside pies and Hand in Hand holds. Chinese takeaway and Alarm Clock dates. The days flew by like cards in a game of spit.

Cocktail mixers, Lockdown late nights, Turkish Cowgirl, Sleepy Hammock Readings, Drive in Date on dirt tracks.

Blomidon Birthday, Rides for Rubber Ducks, Moving in, Wardrobe renovations, Film Festival Fiancee.

I remember the thrill of finding furniture, the melancholic move and the rejuvenation of our new space.

I remember our first Christmas together. Frosted windows tinted by hot cider and laughter. Crystal flakes falling and toes tucked under blankets. Tree sparkling, ornaments dangling, warm love filing the space between.

I remember our weekend getaway. Snow melting as we drove by. Car singalongs and highway naps. Walks on rope and sights seen.

I remember your face when you knew we were getting the dog. Eyes so wide I drowned in them. Tired nights potty training and promenades at point pleasant. Sniffles and fetches.

I remember our trip to Europe.

I remember being so happy, the plane could have landed anywhere. Destination: you.

I remember mustering up the courage, my one knee shaking. Hey, at least I wasn’t stiff anymore. Glimmering, size six.

I remember finding out. Oh my word, the excitement. The relief. And the worry. Stomach burgeoning, dietary cravings. White hallways and white towels. Small hands, reaching out and gentle touches.

I remember seeing it for the first time. How big it was! Could you believe it was all ours? Pinterest pins and screenshot inspiration actualized. A place to call our own. A private garden that we sowed the seeds in so many years ago, finally stationary enough to flourish.

How could I forget the summer sun birthday parties, the winter blankets curled up, the autumnal crunch of leaves under feet and the spring air invigorating. How could I ever forget the feeling of your hand in mine, your eyes on me across the room and the smile that shines into the fire of my heart.

I remember the long days and the short ones. The big moments and the ones in between. The big questions and the small looks. The love we share, growing effervescent and enrapturing. For all the beauty we have behind, I cannot wait for everything in front of us.

I love you, Ella.