I’ve been Mrs. Rachel Morris for nine days.
I’ve been waking up to the most handsome man for nine whole days.
And can I just say how wonderfully sweet it is to marry your best friend. It’s a phrase that’s sometimes casually tossed out, but means so much. I’ve heard people say it. I said it myself, “I get to marry my best friend in 300 days!” But until now I have never realized what that really means. I know some marriage “vets” would say, “How cute.” and honestly I only know the good in marriage right now. I mean, the biggest struggle we’ve had is over which salsa to get at the grocery store.
In our vows we each promised to be one another’s best friend. And that not only means protecting each other or caring for one another but to have fun with each other. To laugh till it hurts with each other. To be ridiculous together. Because after an argument, after the apologies, comes a cute little face with the sweetest eyes, talking to me in his trademark accent. And I know that that’s my best friend.
That’s my husband.