This is my manifesting, slightly delusional answer — realistically, life might stay the same or even get messier, but we’re holding out hope it’ll be better.
Hector and I be celebrating our fourth wedding anniversary, which feels wild to even write. in three years of growing together, learning each other’s rhythms, laughing through the small stuff, and surviving the big stuff. By then, I think we’ll be in a place where the love feels seasoned — comfortable but still alive. The kind of love that knows when to joke and when to hold space.
And finally — finally — we’ll be taking our honeymoon. Not a rushed weekend or a “someday soon” plan, but the real deal. I can already picture us somewhere warm, probably with sand in our shoes and nothing urgent to do. Just us, food, sun, and peace. Maybe we’ll laugh about how long it took us to get there — how life kept throwing curveballs — but it’ll make that moment mean even more.
By then, I’ll hopefully be done with school, which feels like such a deep breath. No more assignments or all-nighters, just that quiet pride that comes from finishing something hard. And maybe we’ll have a kid — someone small and full of curiosity, making our world feel brand new again.
Career-wise, I hope I’m doing the same type of work I do now, but in a space that feels calmer. I don’t need it to be perfect; I just want to stop feeling like every day’s a fire drill. I want work that lets me breathe — that supports life instead of swallowing it.
Mostly, I imagine peace. Warm mornings. Slow dinners. Maybe chaos, but the kind that comes with love, not stress.
In three years, I don’t want a brand-new life — I just want to be present in the one I’ve been building all along.