Third Time's the Charm . . .

So, last Tuesday, Chris and I packed our bags, gave my brother the keys to the house and how-to-feed-not-kill-the-furries list,  and escaped.
Never looked back, not even once.
You see, the next day was our three year anniversary. Maybe it's not a milestone to anyone else, but, to us, it's kind of a big deal.  Maybe it's a little because we dated for three years before we got engaged. Maybe it's because, once we reached three years, we planned on making some major changes.  Maybe it's because we realized this is very likely our last anniversary in Florida--or, at least, our last one for a long time.
So we ran away to our island paradise on Sanibel Island and decided to make it a real vacation.

On our way . . .  I love watching Florida skies--they're anything between vibrant blue to Dooms Day black and ALWAYS with the most spectacular clouds.
P.S. Do you know how difficult it is to get a decent shot in a moving car through a bug splattered windshield? I had to frame my shots based on the location of bug guts. Blech.

Oh, Perfect Beach Day, I love you so . . . and, really, Sanibel is the place to be--white sands and crystal blue waters. It's a sleepy little place with one grocery store and everything closes by eight, but, gosh, no better place for relaxing.  Adore it.

We spent our days sleeping in, watching cable television, eating great seafood, and lounging on the beach. It was so very needed.  We left house-hunting, office projects, and the internet behind. It was five days of just the two of us with no responsibilities. Perfection.

You can't really see it in this picture, but Chris bought himself a fishing pole. Every trip, he has watched other fishermen with great evening, mourning the loss of a beloved pasttime, but NOT THIS YEAR!!! He was completely in his element.  Sadly, the only thing he caught was the attention of an elderly German in a purple and pink plaid speedo. Yep.
We did, however, see a ginormous red fish, literally three feet from us, and a large snook (best fish name EVER) . . . but they just weren't biting, try as we might. I was more upset about it than he was. *sigh*

This crow was hilarious. He loved to perch on the beach umbrellas and scream until someone fed him . . . then he'd snoop through beach bags. Not even kidding. He got into ours three times when we weren't looking.

So, I dropped a cracker and suddenly SEVENTEEN seagulls surrounded me.  For being irritating scavengers, they were kind of adorable, giving me puppy eyes and creeping closer, cocking their little heads.  The hubs, however, frowns upon them with good reason. They're merciless.

Remember what I said about Florida skies? Yeah. Sunset thunderstorm looming. Oh, I will miss these.

On the last night of our trip, we take at least one photo. Couldn't let this year pass without one!

I'm not a mushy person--I tend to evade Nicholas Sparks like the plague and scoff at cheesy declarations, but, I tell you what, that man turns his giant green eyes on me, smiles, and whispers, "I love you most," and I melt.  I mean, seriously, I am a bloody puddle, giggling like a school girl.

We've had our share of tears and fights and storming off, but there's never been any doubt in my mind that he was always the one intended for me. He challenges me with truths I so desperately NEED to hear even though I don't WANT to hear them, but, at the same time, he is my encourager and my comforter. Even after all the fury, we come back understanding something a little deeper, even if it's just that we need more faith in each other and more faith in Christ. Chris sees me deeper than anyone has seen me and knows me better than I know myself. He has lived through my ugliest, my strangest, and my loveliest, and, daily, he still wraps his arms around my waist, kisses my face, and says "I love you. I don't want anyone else but you. Not ever."  True love isn't honey and sugar and butterflies. It's hard work, but it's good work.

 And did I mention that we have fun?
Oh, good GOLLY do we have fun. 
I laugh more with Chris than I have laughed with anyone else.  We might be boring hermits to most people, but we're insane and having a blast.  The things we come up with  . . . we laugh until we cry at things no one else would understand.  And can I just say that the flirting is ridiculous? I mean, really. You don't even know.


So, in a few months, we start a HUGE adventure heading across the country, and there's no one else I'd rather run away with.  Why? Because he's Chris, and that's just who I need. God knew that three years ago, six years ago, ten years ago, twenty-five years ago.
One day this awkward little redheaded teenager would see her best friend's brother asleep on the couch, and that he would see her, too.  They'd meet, they'd crush, and then they'd take a leap.

"Sarah Wimberly, I like you."
"YES!!! I like you, too!"
"Really?"
"Really! How long? How long have you liked me?"
"Since I first saw you.  You were special. I just knew. I'd see pretty girls, but it always came back to you."
"Every guy I liked even a little, I always wanted him to be you because I never thought I'd actually get you. I thought I'd have to clone you, but, no, I get the real thing. This is AWESOME!"

Three years later, he was down on one knee with the most gorgeous ring I had ever seen.
On October 3, 2009, I was trying not to trip on my dress, walking down an aisle, crying silently through my uncontrolled smile.
I got the real thing. I really had him.  And he had me, totally and completely.

I can't imagine existence without him, the second half of my soul.  I thank God every day for that.

I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Not even a little.