I’m not supposed to talk about him. Unlike me – obviously – my husband isn’t one for the spotlight. He’s a private guy, married to a not so private girl.
I tell the world I hate to wear pants. He shows up in the best looking pair.
I tell the world about mishaps with my car and trash cans. He shows up with the spotless vehicle.
I tell the world about coffee I drank and food I ate and movies I watched. He doesn’t.
No, my guy of nearly 11 years, would rather help people behind the scenes and not get noticed at all. I’m all for helping folks, too and not expecting anything in return. But I like to tell the story to strangers and anyone else who may be listening.
We are quite different, that’s for sure. Yet, we go together all the same. Much like cookies and milk, Bert and Ernie, peanut butter and jelly and peas and ketchup.
Come on. You know you love peas and ketchup, too. Straight from the can. Just open that can up and dabble a bit of ketchup on top. It’s a good combination.
My husband and I are a good combination, too. On New Year’s Eve, we’ll celebrate 11 years of marriage together. We’ve known each other longer. He was the guy who showed up to work during those college years, in nicely pressed pants and dress shoes. I showed up in pajama pants and slippers. In my defense, the slippers did have hard soles, so technically, they were weather proof. And my pants could have been work out pants, although I worked out maybe twice during college. Unless you count walking to class with a diet coke in one hand and a backpack in another.
Thankfully, I did that more than twice.
We were kids back then, married the winter after our college graduation. At 23 and 22 years of age (yes, I’m the older and more mature one in this marriage, obviously) we didn’t have much understanding of marriage or children or jobs or life, really. But we did know we loved each other. Once we got past the friend stage, we were engaged and married within an 8-month time.
I would have married him much sooner.
The night before our wedding, I sat on my old bed in my parents’ old house, and wrote a quick note to him. I couldn’t wait to be his bride. And since I tell strangers too much personal information, I thought I would share a bit of that note to you all, too. I’ll keep the harlequin romance piece out for you fine folks. That husband of mine is thankful I do have limits. Here’s a time machine back to December 30, 2004.
“It’s been an exciting few months preparing for our wedding. But honestly, as exciting as everything is, I’m mostly just ready to start my life with Kyle. I love him so very much and I’m so very ready to tell the world just that. I’m getting married tomorrow. Tomorrow! I have found my soulmate and that is something that should never be taken lightly. And I promise, I will never take our marriage lightly. I do love him so very much. Thank you, God.”
I’m still so very thankful for you, Kyle Means. On December 31, 2004, I made the best decision of my life to marry you. I love you more today than ever before.
You are the ketchup on top of my peas.