I can’t wait to plan my own quirky little celebration of love and new beginnings.
I can’t wait for the ridiculously enchanting (what I really mean is sexy) Couples’ First Dance.
I can’t wait for my face to shine as bright as the sun because I am finally his and he is finally mine.
I can’t wait to take on a new name.
I can’t wait to write my vows and read them aloud, all teary-eyed, in the presence of family and friends.
I can’t wait to see my momma cry as she gives me away – one of the few times I will ever see her cry.
I can’t wait to see the look on my handsome’s face when I first appear – I hope he has a smile that swallows his entire face and places stars in his eyes.
I can’t wait for the days, weeks, and months of romance leading up to that wonderful day and the lifetime of romance that will follow.
I can’t wait to build a home.
I can’t wait to fall in love.
I can’t wait to meet you, whoever you may be.
This is what happens when you go to a near-perfect wedding with two other women. This is what happens when you cry through said wedding because everything – from the mountains in the background to the rays of the setting sun to the horse-drawn wagon ride to the violin and guitar rendition of Such Great Heights to the exuberant fist pump after he gets to kiss his glowing bride to the way he just can’t take his eyes of her – just takes your breath away. This is what happens when I let myself be a girl and dream of what could be; what hopefully will be someday.
My heart feels like a balloon tonight – so full, yet so light. This must be what joyful hope feels like.
[And don’t you worry, I probably will never be this sappy again on here. My very serious, introspective side will return shortly. But for tonight, I am a shameless hopeless romantic :)]