It's a little past two. In four hundred and seventy nine days I'll either already be, or very very close to being a married woman. Wedding Mass is at one. Getting that email a few weeks ago from Deacon Gene stating that the church is reserved for me on a specific date and at a specific time was surreal. It still is, but it seems as with every passing second I get more and more of a foothold of a dream that has all the possibility of coming true.
Four hundred and seventy nine days is a long time from now, but it is so reachable. I daily quiet down the excitement that builds up from within me. I'm being cautious, but optimistically so. Optimism rarely enters my life but I can't help but allow it to creep in. Jury is still out on the positive ramifications of this change.
I have a hard time forming sentences lately. A difficult time placing my thoughts appropriately. All I know how to say is that despite everything, I love him. I love him this deep and indescribable type of love that is at time debilitating but at its source is life giving. He's my best friend, and a piece of me that I'm nearly positive I can't survive without.
The road I'm walking is hard, but its end of destination appeal keeps me going.
