Counting

You say it doesn't count.

But it counts to me.

Months aren't the same as years. So what.

It's still an accomplishment. It's still the beginning of a journey. I still said yes to you instead of someone else.



You say it doesn't count.

But it counts to me.

Months aren't the same as years. So what.

It's still a month to celebrate. It's still the beginning of a race. I still like to remember I said yes to you instead of someone else.

How Can it Be?

How can it be a year and a half? Dancing, laughing, twirling. Etta James cooing in the background. The smell of fresh cut grass and hay. People laughing in the distance. The taste of sparkling cider fresh on my lips. Buttercream icing, waiting to be licked. A bouquet toss. A garter. An entire day's events strung together; a blur in my mind. Warm sun, excitement, destiny- all squished into something called love. Pure love. That's what's on my face and on yours too. Can we go back? No, but we can try.