Avowing

In one month I will be married. My new means of composing my Mrs. Bennet-esque nerves involve the following considerations.

I will look beautiful on my wedding day, but it will be neither the only nor the last day that I will.

No one will remember - hopefully - my tears over fluorescent lighting, breaches of etiquette, unexpected blemishes, or compromised music selections when I cry at the altar. I will take a hand I have known so well and that has known me, but it will be my husband's hand, and I will be his wife.

This is a day I will share, less than an hour for every month that I have prepared, with my friends and my family. All of the rest of my hours, the months and years of my life, will be spent building something far bigger and more special than a wedding day: my marriage.

I will be neither fearful nor undone by the unexpected, be it cake frosting, trailing hems, or quarrelsome relations, because I never expected love, and it has been the greatest influence of my life.