The butter to my bread.
The dill to my pickle.
The peanut butter to my jelly.
I'm writing this in the kitchen. And I'm hungry.
Hard to Love by Lee Brice. If you don't know this song, you can't continue reading until you stop, google it, listen to it.
Just over five years ago, Seth and I were married. Here we are in the same little ol' house Seth moved into 7-8 years ago. We've added on and added two kids.
This man drives me nuts. We ebb and flow. We love each other more than I ever thought I could love someone but we also drive each other more nuts that I ever thought possible. I think this is normal. If it's not... don't tell me.
I think we balance each other. Pardon the language - but I'm a jackass. I break out in song and dance randomly, I speak in random accents. I'm a jackass.
Seth is a serious, hard-working man. There isn't a day that goes by that Seth doesn't have a list of 20+ things that he is going to try to accomplish that day. Don't get my wrong, I usually have a fairly impressive to-do list also. Mine is just hindered by these two little men that moved in with Seth and I over the past few years.
During one of our "you drive me more nuts than anyone I know" moments of life, Seth had done something to scrunch my face into major frustration. And then, he started singing. ....
"I'm hard to love, hard to love."
I couldn't do anything but grin.
This could not be more true.
I'm not saying this song defines our entire marriage. I'm sure, like everyone else, we would need an entire album for every different day of the week, month, year.
Going back even further, Seth and I met when we both just 15 at the county fair. I had gone with a few friends to the teen dance. I saw Seth. Seth saw me. I'm not sure which happened first but Seth, being the suave man that he thinks he is, approached me. He got my phone number and we spent the summer having a relationship over the phone. We were 15.... He called me every morning before 7am. I'm thinking, who in the world is this kid... Up before 7 during the summer and talking about the work he's doing. Freak. :) By the way, I have a feeling this is exactly how little Mr. Wyatt is going to turn out. There are worse things. :)
Fast forward to the end of the summer and Seth broke my heart by deciding to date some other girl at the state fair. Really, though, I was pretty upset by this. I was really enjoying my chats with this guy.
Fast forward even further and we both started dating other people but we always stayed in touch. He was one of the very few people I would call to just have a chat.
This is my blog and I'm in charge, so I'm saying this. Seth spent the next 8 years trying to get me back. He was always trying to get me to go on a date or out with friends or to this dinner or that wedding. I played a very good game of hard to get.
But there was always something. At one point, when I was around 21, I remember having a good couch conversation with one of my dearest friends and I said, "I just feel like I could marry Seth. I could just see myself ending up with him."
In February of 2008, he convinced me to go on a date. He likes to say (which is somewhat accurate) that I was drinking a little wine with my mom and she convinced me to give this guy a shot.
We went on a date. And another. And a good ol' country-cruising, go feed the cows date.
In April of 2008 we decided to make it official. We were in a relationship.
In August of 2008, Seth proposed in the middle of the living room floor. He bought a ring that day and it was burning a hole in his pocket.
In February of 2009, we were married.
Whirlwind....? Yeah, you're telling me.
There is just something between us that neither of us can deny and I think it first showed up that summer when we were 15. God knows what he's doing. He kept us in each other's life just enough to be intrigued, but knew to keep us away from each other until we were ready to handle the rest of our lives.
We grew up. Together and apart.
He is ridiculously hard to love sometimes. And I know I'm the same way - hard to love. But I love him and the things that he stands for.
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