He calls me his little wife, but there is nothing little about me.
I am 5’10” and 160 pounds of belly laugh and Southern drawl and running into door frames.
Out of three sisters, I was the one with the strong back. The one who drove the tractor on the weekends and shifted furniture and dog houses and wooden sheds.
My strong back is splintered now. Some days it can barely carry the weight of me.
When I walk beside him, I am too tall. His arm around me is uncomfortable, because my shoulders are just this much too high.
But at night, in bed, I scoot myself down till my feet touch the footboard, and my head fits perfectly there, in the crook of his arm, on the curve of his chest.
I am little then, and little has never felt so good.
*photo by Ashley Perry Blevins Photography