Last Labor Day, the love of my life made me the happiest woman in the world and asked for my hand in marriage. Oh, shit! The skinny, black guy with glow in the dark sneakers from my High School English class and I are going to get married!
I was engaged once before when I was 21. He was a nice enough fellow. I remember, after we got engaged, I asked my mother how you know someone is "the one". She told me that "you just know it" bullshit and I left it alone. The thought of soulmates was silly to me. That out of all the people on the planet, only one was "the one". I always that there are too many people in the world that I could contently spend the rest of my life with. My ex being one of them. That obviously didn't work out, though.
John and I had been friends since 2005. We always kind of had crushes on each other, but are timing was always off. What's the perfect guy if it's not the perfect time, right? We'll we finally got together and I felt that feeling. "The one".
Our relationship has been far from perfect. We went through an on again, off again phase. I'm pretty sure I tried to smash a glass over his head at one point (we joke about it now), but one day we just clicked. Like we were finally in sync. We realized that at the end of the day, we are creepily perfect for each other and immediately started looking at wedding rings.
Shortly after, I found out I was pregnant. We thought about having a shotgun wedding, but wanted our day to be about us, and not the fact that I was knocked up. Trashy.
We'll be getting married this upcoming June. We're eloping to the Netherlands and having a great, big, Tyler Perry style reception when we get home.
I can't wait to marry my anime loving, comic book geek, bucket hat wearing, dorky dance move having, skinny, chocolate drop best friend. September 3rd, 2012 was one of the happiest days of my life.
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