Friday March 5th marked our six-month anniversary, which sounds really sweet until you realize that, aside from our one month anniversary back in October, we didn't really take much notice at all of all subsequent anniversaries, and I only really realized that we'd been married for six months last Friday when I was raising my Double-Double in celebration at In-N-Out and looking for something to toast.
To marriage! And cheeseburgers! Hurrah!
Before the wedding, I wondered if I would feel different after the wedding. I couldn't imagine feeling different. I mean, I could imagine feeling the SWEET SWEET RELIEF of not having a to-do list a mile long, don't get me wrong, but I couldn't imagine feeling.....well, married. How would that feel? Would it be weird? Would anything change?
I asked and you answered. I read through those answers the way you might read through an account of walking on the moon: fascinated but incapable of fully comprehending. The consensus was this: it just feels different. But different how, I wanted to know. Can't put my finger on it, you said. Cemented. Content. Calm. Permanent. Partnered.
Six months in, I want to tell you that it is different. How? Can't put my finger on it. I introduce Sean to someone as "my husband" and I think holy crap, I have a husband. It was a smooth transition---no new home, no new name, thirteen years of knowing each other behind us already---and yet somehow everything changed. Only in the faintest, most imperceptible way, though, like one of those tiny earthquakes that nobody ever feels, the ones that shift the landmass just everso slightly. On the surface everything looks the same. But somewhere, under layers and layers and layers of earth, the world has been altered.