Pre-Marriage
People keep asking me if I'm nervous, or excited. And I'm a bit of both and neither. I don't want the wedding to be over--and people ask me if it's because I'm enjoying the planning stage. In some ways, I love the planning, because my dad is planning so much of it. I get to call him and chat about things for a long time in the middle of the week, because clearly I've got to! Things must be discussed and decided, and my dad is the one to do it. I love working with him, and I'm sad that will end.
And I'm sad that there's only one big family reunion for both him and me. This is the only time my uncle will fly out from Colorado just for me, and the only time his extended family will troop in to State College. It's one thing that makes my best friends move heaven and earth to fly out to see me, to spend a day with me, even if I can't give them as much time as I'd like to. I miss that time already, and it hasn't even happened yet!
And I like looking forward to the day together with E, my family, his family, and our friends. I love the anticipation, and I love thinking about how much fun the reception will be. How much fun I hope the reception is. People wish me a beautiful, perfect wedding--and I have to struggle to be gracious, because I don't care if it's beautiful. I want it to be friendly and warm and genuine, like a family reunion except with nicer clothes.
And I'm going to miss being Not Married. Right now, I like that I'm making a constant (if unconscious) choice to stay with E every day--but supposedly that choice is taken away. I don't really believe that it's taken away, and I strongly believe that we have to keep making the choice to stay together or our marriage will fail--but still. I like the easy hand-holding of being a couple, without being completely qualified as to what kind.
And I can't even imagine what it will feel like to live together not "in sin." I won't have to hide the fact from casual professional acquaintances that we wake up together and have breakfast together so easily because we sleep in the same bed--it will just be expected. We'll be a family unit--and really, there is nothing sexy about being a family.
And I am really, really not ready to be a wife. I will be a life partner till death do us part but a wife? So not ready.
And there's something just a little bit weird about a married chick going out and grooving in a club until two a.m. with a group of girlfriends. Not that that will stop me, but it makes me sad that it will be a little bit weird.
Then again, it is a ridiculously easy decision to spend my life with E. We love each other well--at least, he loves me well, and I love him fiercely, and I just hope he feels as protected and cared for as I do. Sometimes I am not good at the "showing care" thing. Rather, I'm not good at it with other people--and somehow he makes me better. It is quite ridiculous, I am really getting the good end of the deal. I love our times we spend together--there's a joy and contentment there that I've not felt anywhere else. I love our discussions. I love that I can ask to be alone, and he understands--and then I'm alone and can be so perfectly satisfied in a completely different way. I feel guilty, really, because I am getting the best of both worlds--someone who loves me as I am and loves us as we are and still somehow helps me be better, and someone who lets me go develop myself as I need to be separate. How can I possibly have both?
In some ways I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop--like, I've been granted this wonderful relationship because one or both of us are about to die an early death from brain tumors--and maybe doing something noisy like getting married will draw fate's attention, and will cut everything short. Or maybe I won't live up to my potential and will be impossible to live with, even for someone who loves me and has lived with me for years.
There is so much to be worried about--but if I'm going to make this work, I know that this is the person I need to do it with. I don't believe in The One, but I do understand that I am not an easy person to forge a deep relationship with and that I am picky beyond all belief--and that it is a gosh-darned miracle that I've found someone with whom I can build a relationship beyond even mutual toleration to actual love and respect and...
See? Where is this other shoe?
I'm going to enjoy this for now, though. I am so, so grateful.
And I'm sad that there's only one big family reunion for both him and me. This is the only time my uncle will fly out from Colorado just for me, and the only time his extended family will troop in to State College. It's one thing that makes my best friends move heaven and earth to fly out to see me, to spend a day with me, even if I can't give them as much time as I'd like to. I miss that time already, and it hasn't even happened yet!
And I like looking forward to the day together with E, my family, his family, and our friends. I love the anticipation, and I love thinking about how much fun the reception will be. How much fun I hope the reception is. People wish me a beautiful, perfect wedding--and I have to struggle to be gracious, because I don't care if it's beautiful. I want it to be friendly and warm and genuine, like a family reunion except with nicer clothes.
And I'm going to miss being Not Married. Right now, I like that I'm making a constant (if unconscious) choice to stay with E every day--but supposedly that choice is taken away. I don't really believe that it's taken away, and I strongly believe that we have to keep making the choice to stay together or our marriage will fail--but still. I like the easy hand-holding of being a couple, without being completely qualified as to what kind.
And I can't even imagine what it will feel like to live together not "in sin." I won't have to hide the fact from casual professional acquaintances that we wake up together and have breakfast together so easily because we sleep in the same bed--it will just be expected. We'll be a family unit--and really, there is nothing sexy about being a family.
And I am really, really not ready to be a wife. I will be a life partner till death do us part but a wife? So not ready.
And there's something just a little bit weird about a married chick going out and grooving in a club until two a.m. with a group of girlfriends. Not that that will stop me, but it makes me sad that it will be a little bit weird.
Then again, it is a ridiculously easy decision to spend my life with E. We love each other well--at least, he loves me well, and I love him fiercely, and I just hope he feels as protected and cared for as I do. Sometimes I am not good at the "showing care" thing. Rather, I'm not good at it with other people--and somehow he makes me better. It is quite ridiculous, I am really getting the good end of the deal. I love our times we spend together--there's a joy and contentment there that I've not felt anywhere else. I love our discussions. I love that I can ask to be alone, and he understands--and then I'm alone and can be so perfectly satisfied in a completely different way. I feel guilty, really, because I am getting the best of both worlds--someone who loves me as I am and loves us as we are and still somehow helps me be better, and someone who lets me go develop myself as I need to be separate. How can I possibly have both?
In some ways I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop--like, I've been granted this wonderful relationship because one or both of us are about to die an early death from brain tumors--and maybe doing something noisy like getting married will draw fate's attention, and will cut everything short. Or maybe I won't live up to my potential and will be impossible to live with, even for someone who loves me and has lived with me for years.
There is so much to be worried about--but if I'm going to make this work, I know that this is the person I need to do it with. I don't believe in The One, but I do understand that I am not an easy person to forge a deep relationship with and that I am picky beyond all belief--and that it is a gosh-darned miracle that I've found someone with whom I can build a relationship beyond even mutual toleration to actual love and respect and...
See? Where is this other shoe?
I'm going to enjoy this for now, though. I am so, so grateful.