And then you remember this event ten years from now.
Not what you were listening to.
Not the trip you took that year.
But the moment where you held hands on a couch thinking of nothing but the other.
The way her hair smelled or the way they smiled at love songs in the night.
Because in the end, while big moments are important to history, it is the little moments that matter most.
It isn’t the wedding day, it is the look in his eyes when he first sees her dress.
It isn’t treating him to his first mani pedi that matters, its the way he laughed trying to keep his toes dry while you cuddle.
It isn’t the big things, the marked things, the firsts and the lasts, those things that can be written into a book and looked back upon.
Its those immeasurable things. The little things. The way her head sits on your chest. The way his heart sounds. The way she fiddles with her hair. The way she holds your hand, grasping at the finger tips.
Those things that would seem weird if they weren’t so god damn perfect.