The Bridge.

April 3, 2017

My husband and I have been married for eight years, but together for a total of seventeen years. (I know you are trying to do the math. I am 27. Just 27. And a princess. My daddy told me so. I digressed.)

The picture is on our wedding day. In the distance is the Golden Gate Bridge. In those seventeen years, A LOT has happened. We collected four degrees, had two babies, bought a house, three new cars, a few beach vacations, sent a kid to college, had some epic bouts of food poisoning, and a lot of growing. Sometimes painfully so.


This picture speaks to me in so many ways. A bridge symbolizes several things: a crossing, the link between two worlds, or transition. Some days I wanted to set the bridge aflame, but realized my husband is the bridge- always there to help me cross over to the next phase of life.


I am grateful for my husband and sometimes I do take him for granted. I am not proud to say that, but it's the truth. Life can be a beautiful mess. Mine is and I wouldn't have it any other way. I told you in my ABOUT section, I am a hot mess. A. HOT. MESS. 


Life brought Michael to me. It took two thousand miles, but we found each other. We continue to find each other when times are good and when they are painful. We continue to find each other when the world has turned its back on us. We continue to find each when all hope we have in each other is lost. We continue to find each other as one chapter closes and we start a whole new book. We continue.












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by Brinn From Burbank