My Misplaced Love Story

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Christopher and I were married 5 years ago today. It has been a crazy, wild, wonderful, imperfect ride. I’ll share with you some wisdom I’ve gained along the way: No marriage is perfect. It’s hard and it’s messy and there are rough patches. But at the same time it can be wonderful and beautiful and your own personal fairy tale. You just have to work for it.

I hope my story will touch your heart and remind you what is worth working for and to never forget what matters most.

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My love story started on the back of a motorcycle with my arms wrapped tightly around the future I didn’t know was coming. I’d managed to find the dream that consumed my high school fantasies of the guy who could put a check mark in every box on my list. We stole kisses on campus in between classes and held hands on cold nights waiting for the meteor shower that never came. Our fingers intertwined with a country between us through letters stuffed full of promises of love. I fell hard and fast but he caught me with a diamond ring and a vow to explore the world together.

Our cheeks ached from the grins our faces couldn’t contain when we whispered, “Yes” and became a part of each other. We were giddy at a world of possibility; we were anxious to dip our toes into the adventures that awaited.

We moved and traveled and discovered ourselves and each other. We couldn’t sit still; perpetual wanderers. That is, until we had a daughter who wouldn’t stop moving. Then all we wanted was one moment of stillness. She made our entire lives more exciting and more complicated. She filled us with more love than we knew could ever exist. She gave us the reason and purpose we didn’t know we were looking for. She was the perfect addition to our perfect love story.

But then, somehow, without any warning at all, I misplaced it.

Like a book set idly on a shelf, hidden in plain view, it slowly covered with dust and waited alone, lost, forgotten.

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