So in ten days I'm getting married.
I've ignored the part of me that wanted to be a counter-cultural hippie, getting married in the woods with a dozen friends and family, wearing a flowing dress (maybe white, maybe not) that I found at a thrift store. But that hippie wasn't loud enough. Instead, I've rented a banquet center in a park. They'll be serving a buffet dinner, and I'll be paying an extra $65 for them to cut my cake. My dress was bought online, but it's still white. It's still wedding-dressy.
I guess I decided that, more important than having an inexpensive, quiet ceremony was having something that all the people I love, and whom my fiancé loves, can attend. They can celebrate with us. By coming, they are showing support for us and our marriage.
Starting a new job just as the wedding date is approaching has been interesting. Because I'm new and shy, I don't really talk about it with my new colleagues beyond superficial conversation. They don't know me, yet, and they don't know my fiancé. I'm not sure how to jump forward besides wait it out.
This wedding, this marriage, feels strange and ordinary, unexpected and fated, and scary and exciting all at the same time. The closer I get to the date, the more sure I am that I made the right decision. After all, marriage is a choice. Commitment is a choice. And I know this is a good one: I don't have an ounce of doubt.
I can't wait.
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