The wedding bliss lasts only for that day. Once I woke up the next morning, I thought, 'Oh, weddings end, too.' There was work to be done. There was a marriage to begin; a house to build. In all honesty, I just wanted to be the bride in a white wedding gown forever and ever and ever. But on this earth, beautiful things can't last that long. Just like that, my husband and I went from groom and bride to nomadic lovers. For almost a week, we lived out of our suitcase, jumping from one hotel to another, one house to another. Going back and forth to our old homes to refill our bags with clothes for the night. It was an odd experience. There was certainty - I just married the love of my life - and uncertainty as well - When will it all settle down? I get overwhelmed easily. And guess what I learned? My husband does, too.
It was the fifth day of the transitory routine of packing and repacking. I was getting tired, and frustrated, and doubtful, while waiting for our place to be finished. I even thought, 'I just want to go back to my old bed and room and house,' but dared not speak it. And then I looked to my husband and noticed weariness. 'What's wrong?' He raised his eyes and said, 'This is tiring.' When a man says that, you know it's really, really tiring. I wanted to cry and just run to my home when it hit me: I can't do that anymore. The boundaries of marriage won't allow you to do that. They force you to face the struggle and power through it. At that moment, I knew I had to be strong. 'Don't worry, buddy, our home will be beautiful.' I was hoping and praying I was right.
My interior designer and friend told me our place would be ready that night. I was all kinds of nervousness and excitement. When we turned the keys and opened the door, I let out a huge sigh of relief and smiled. It was better than I imagined it to be; it was finally our own home. I looked to my husband and instead of weariness on his face, I found peace. No more wondering, no more doubt. A lot of moving in to do but yes, yes yes, we finally have our canvas. Our own walls and rooms we can fill with trinkets and memories. Our own floors to welcome our family and friends. Houston, we have landed.