Somewhere Only We Know

A year ago, Rob was getting ready to make the move to Minnesota and we had no idea what to expect. We knew it would be cold, and we knew there'd be snow, but I don't think we had any idea how much of a different world it would be from Virginia. He packed his things and went, and I immediately began romanticizing the thought of living in a strange city together, with a new climate and considerable lack of familiarities.

Now that I am here and away from my friends and my family, there are certainly days that feel lonely for us. But last weekend, I walked out onto a frozen Lake Harriet and stood there, looking around, trying to comprehend that what I was standing on was not earth, but water. I felt equal parts excitement and fear, and soon was just overwhelmed with complete gratitude for the opportunity to be here right now.

Until Minneapolis, there has never been a time in my life where I have found myself in a completely unfamiliar place doing completely unfamiliar things. Before I left, I thought I would be afraid, but now I'm here and I'm not.

So why don't we go somewhere only we know?--

Those were the words that comforted me in the six months that Rob and I lived in different time zones, where he was alone doing his first winter and I dreamed of snowy roads and an unfamiliar city waiting for me. I wrote them down and sang them and prayed that this new life of ours would become exactly what we wanted it to be.

We've had some family come to visit us here, but sometimes it feels as though we haven't shared Minneapolis very much with the people back home. It really does feel like our place--the city where we lived as an engaged couple, and the first place we'll live as newlyweds. Our favorite coffee shops and restaurants and lakes are just that--ours. One day we will move on and go somewhere new, but we'll always have Minneapolis.

Photo credit: V.A. Photography