I’ve always scoffed at other girls’ wedding dreams (not out loud of course). I mean, c’mon, the white everything, the flowers, the invitations, the pomp and circumstance, the expense, the bridal showers and bachelorette parties. It’s all positively, well, nauseating. WHO DOES THAT?! And here I am… I’m getting married in November. 11-11-11 to be exact. It’s supposed to be lucky! We cross-referenced the validity of that statement with a Cantonese fortune teller who in turn cross-referenced 3 calendars/ almanacs, which ascertained the fortuitous nature of the date (although she claims that 11-12-11 would be even better – but it doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it?) In any case I AM getting married, or rather, WE are getting married. D and me. And he’s wonderful. Barf you might say. And I would be you in a former self. Hypocrite you say? Hell yeah.
In this day and age it seems miraculous. Especially since we met the ‘old fashioned’ way — in person, by chance.
We were taking Korean class (altho neither one of us is Korean) and happened to be in the same class, advanced through the same classes, and repeated a level at the same time.
It also seems miraculous to find someone after all the heartbreak and heartache: because we all have a few, in this day and age, as we search for someone to be with. Wait, no, not just someone, THE ONE.
I’m jaded. I don’t really believe in the one, or barely. OK maybe secretly I believe in THE ONE but I’ve been burnt a few times into convincing myself that it’s a fairy tale. And I’ve never, ever been one to dream of a big white fairy tale wedding. Maybe because well, I never thought I’d actually get married. But you know, after you find that one person you want to be with for the rest of your life because being with them is easy and makes your life better, it seems like a f***ing miraculous, fairy tale ending. Or fairy tale beginning. And that’s exactly what it is.
I got a job recently, and this job means I’m working on all the days surrounding the wedding, with the exception of the wedding because of special dispensation. And as I talked through the logistics with D while I hosed down the hibiscus in the front yard, he stops me and says, “You don’t have to convince me. Even if you could only come to the ceremony and had to leave right after and I was by myself at the wedding banquet, I’d be OK with that.” And he meant it. And you know what, it’s a f***ing miracle that I found this man, perfectly for me. Bring it, wedding day. I’m ready for a celebration.


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