Skin Deep

Epilogue

Luke

            As the years have gone by and Amanda and I have argued and shared and grown, I’ve realized how much I need her. I would not be the same without her, of that I am sure. And maybe it sounds desperate, but I don’t care. I need her, and I love her, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

            The day I proposed to her under the old tree in my backyard was the scariest day of my life. My mom filmed it from the window. Amanda cried. But it was totally worth it when I saw her coming down the aisle with Dianne in that pure white dress.

            Our house is like a storybook. With Amanda as a nurse and me running our various business endeavors, life is comfortable. We have a mantle in our living room with one picture on it, because Amanda refuses to put anything else there. It’s a picture from high school, surrounded by a frame made out of plastic Munchie Mix.

            Sure, we’ve had our share of struggles, including our crazy lives back when we were just high schoolers and university kids. We weren’t all that financially stable for the first few years. I lost a family member to sickness. Our basement has flooded twice, and one of our neighbours really hated us for a while, and is still rather difficult. But such is life, and as long as we’re in this together, we’ll be alright.

            We were totally incompetent first time parents, but by child number five, we learned. Amanda cried when our oldest girl broke her arm. She fell out of a tree. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault, but Amanda felt bad. She often feels everyone else’s pain as if it was her own.

           Amanda’s face is still scarred, and it’s always the first thing people notice about her. But I don’t see the burn anymore. I see haunting blue eyes and cascading brown curls; I hear a laugh that makes me want to laugh, too; and I see a heart determined to make other hearts happy.

            She still looks at me like I’m the only one in the room when she talks to me, I still compliment her on her shoes nearly every day, and sometimes I still call her by her full name when I ask her things because I still like the way Amanda McAllister sounds.

            When I see Amanda, all I see is beauty. If there’s one thing she has taught me about love, it’s that the value in a person isn’t on the surface. Love is crazy and unpredictable, but love is not skin deep. 

            I’ve learned that there’s nothing wrong with scars. When I look back on our story, there’s nothing that I would change. Sure, I would want us to endure less pain. I would change the things that broke her heart and the stupid decision we made. But the fact of the matter is, scars aren’t bad. Scars mean you had an adventure. They mean something happened worth remembering. When I look at Amanda, I see a woman with physical proof that she had to fight for something worth fighting for. She is scarred, but she is that much more beautiful. And I love her, scars and all.

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