I make that sound so simple, don’t I? Well, it wasn’t.
First, we got engaged, planned a wedding, things started to unravel and not feel right, and then we cancelled the wedding. We fixed stuff, then we got engaged again (at which point Matt asked, “Geez Paul, how many rings are you going to give her?” “Until it works,” Paul answered. I love him).
The second time worked, and so we had a wee tiny wedding. Karen officiated, but unfortunately not in Klingon (she would not even consider it!).
In some ways I’m sad that our first wedding didn’t work out. The pretty garden setting on the fourth of July, the menu, the guests. But things weren’t right. Where we were as a couple was not a good place to cement, and we felt that getting married at that moment would put a stamp of approval on something that wasn’t as it should be. We were under a lot of stress last year, our cracks had started to show, and we weren’t handling those cracks in a way that made us and our future stronger and better. We called off the wedding, got dirty and raw, drew lines in the sand and fixed that s**t. I’m strangely proud of us that we called it off. We are big grown-ups and we are not having any nonsense.
And so, on October 12th I married a wonderful man who worked really hard to make things right for us. There are not enough words to describe how much I love him, admire him, and cherish him and the family we’ve made. He butters my biscuit. He flips my flapjack. He rocks my little world. He is my sweet babboo, and now I understand why people like being married.
(My poor sweetheart looks a bit tired in this picture, doesn’t he? It had been a long few months, and we are both much rejuvenated and MUCH hotter now, of course.)