“It’s the oldest story in the world: one day, you’re seventeen and planning for someday,
and then quietly, and without you ever really noticing,
someday is today... and then someday is yesterday... and this is your life.”- One Tree Hill
Zach and I met when we were seventeen, and even though we didn't start planning for our someday (at least not together) until we were eighteen, there couldn't be a more perfect description of how I feel in this season of our lives. We're currently a little over a year into our marriage, and I still find myself having "this is your life" moments all the time... like when I wake up in the morning with a cup of coffee already on my nightstand. Or when I come home from work on a Tuesday evening and the door opens before I can even get my keys out and I'm swept up into a giant hug. (All my fellow long distance-ees feel me on that one. Who gets to see each other on a Tuesday?) Or when I crawl into bed long after he's called it a day... and he's there and he's safe and we're married and this is really happening.
As crazy as it may sound, it's not only the blissful newlywed moments (or maybe not-so-newlywed moments, because it has been an entire week and a half since anyone inquired about my marriage...) that cause me to stop in my tracks and become overwhelmed with gratefulness that the "someday" we dreamed of for so long is here. It's also the completely random and somewhat dull moments that remind me how far we've come from our very first planning-for-someday days.
Earlier this week, Zach and I sat down to fill out his registration form for a conference in Colorado this summer. Somewhere between searching through a folder labeled "important grown-up stuff" for insurance policy numbers, immunization records, and a family physician's telephone number, I had that same feeling—the feeling of "one day, you're seventeen and planning for someday... and then quietly, and without you ever really noticing, someday is today."
How we went from a couple of teenagers staying up entirely too late around a summer night campfire to real adults** with "important grown-up stuff" folders is beyond me. Most days, it still feels like we're just a couple of kids pretending to be grown-ups. But every once in a while, the realization of "someday is today... and then someday is yesterday... and this is your life" surfaces.
It's like that moment when you're learning to ride a bike and you suddenly realize the training wheels are off and your parents are halfway down the street and you're actually doing this. There's the initial wave of absolute panic before coming to terms with the fact that you've been doing this. You may have just now noticed how far you've gone, but you've. been. doing. this. Even better, you've managed to not crash—at least, not yet—so you might as well trust yourself and keep doing it.
Quietly, and without you really ever noticing — I suppose that's how this whole "growing up" thing goes.
If there's one thing I know for sure, it's this: I'm so incredibly grateful that I get to figure out this sometimes-overwhelming grown-up world alongside such an amazing guy. It blows my mind to think about how much we've been through together in the past (almost) six years or how surreal it is that we're living out the somedays we dreamed of for so long. Quietly, and without us really ever noticing, this is our life... and there's no other hand I'd rather hold through everything it throws our way.
**The term "real adult" is used very loosely in this context. Given the option to be responsible and go to bed early or stay up late for absolutely no reason, I will always choose the latter. I may or may not have watched The Lizzie McGuire Movie in the past six months, and I did just write an entire blog post based on a quote from One Tree Hill, so... there's that.