What this means
Promises we keep
Not a performance. A practice. These are the terms of the life we chose on the twenty-fourth of September, two thousand and twenty-five.
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We choose each other
Not only on the day we said yes. Every morning after. Desire may flare and quiet. The choice remains.
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We tell the truth
Even when the truth is less beautiful than silence. No secret life. No second story.
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We stay
Distance, doubt, and ordinary days do not unmake this. Hard seasons are not a door out.
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We protect this house
Our names, our peace, our private world. What is ours is not for the crowd.
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We speak with respect
Especially when we disagree. Anger may visit. Contempt may not live here.
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We forgive, and we ask to be forgiven
We will fail. We will return. Pride is not more precious than us.
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We grow, and we let each other grow
Change is not betrayal. Leaving is. We make room for who we are becoming.
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We share the weight
Work, family, money, the quiet labour of a life. Neither of us carries the house alone.
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We keep tenderness
Passion is a fire. Kindness is the hearth that lasts. We do not let the small warmth die.
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We belong to each other until death parts us
Not as a threat. As a vow. Till death do us apart.