I'm going to be totally corny this Monday morning and I don't even care. Today is my seventh month anniversary with Mr. T. SEVEN months of marriage. I know that's not like forty years or anything, but still. It's been a bit of a challenge (don't people say the first year is the hardest or something like that?), but we're doing it and not killing each other. And we still like each other.
There was once a time that I never thought I would get married. Partially because I didn't understand how you could possibly know that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with someone. And I think the cynical gal in me wasn't 100% sure if love even existed. Or at least if it existed for me.
But let me tell you. It does. Love is real. I am far from hopeless romantic and love isn't a fairy tale by any means, but it exists. And through all of the challenges and all of my weirdo tendencies that man still loves me so I think that's proof.
So, for today's Monday inspiration and in honor of my anniversary, here's a picture I took a few years ago in Brooklyn. It was before I even met Mr. T. And I don't know if the person who wrote it really meant it the way that it spoke to me, but I don't care. This picture also hangs in our bedroom.