At first it was strange to wear a ring. To get used to the shape and weight. But I soon grew to feel naked without it on and when I’d feel its absence I’d have a brief moment of panic that I’d lost it.
No, Shea, you’re just doing the dishes. Calm down.
I love just looking at it and moving my finger ever so slightly to see the sparkles gleaning from diamonds. I now absentmindedly spin it around with my thumb. It makes me smile to know that I get to wear it for the rest of my life. It’s my ring.
But it’s what the ring symbolizes that brings the most comfort to me. It means that I get to marry my very best friend. My closest companion. My adventure buddy. The man I’ve been in love with for longer than I can recall at this point. The one who, for whatever reason, told me years ago that he thought we were soul mates even though we were just friends on the opposite sides of the earth who had never met in real life.
I get to choose to marry him every day. I get to have a sleepover every night with my bestie. We get to find new ways to make each other laugh. We get to struggle through life in situations we’ve never been in before. We get to grow and dream and plan. We get to figure it out together.
I’d never been one to plan my dream wedding as a little girl. To my recollection, I’d never even daydreamed about it. No visions of the perfect wedding dress, venue, flowers, or cake ever crossed my mind. Wait, I take that back. When I was about 14 years old I saw a beautiful white cake on the cover of a magazine and I kept it in my memory. So yeah… I planned the food part of my wedding. Figures.
It wasn’t until I went through a wedding (through the motions, I should say) that I discovered what my dream wedding would be. It would not be a stiff, painfully impersonal traditional wedding with a guest list so long that I would question whether or not they were related or wedding crashers. And there wouldn’t be balloons that my mom sneakily ordered for a little more decoration. No endless combination of family portraits and smiling so much my cheeks are too tired to talk. And, most importantly, there would be so much food that I would get to eat, damnit.
Which brings me to this wedding. The one that will take place the second week of August in the end of this Australian winter. The small one being held in our living room that will probably be decked out in fairy lights and candles. The guests will be close family and friends and some of them will watch via Skype from thousands of miles away in the middle of the night. We are foregoing a wedding cake in favor of our favorite donuts. I’m making the food. There will be lots of it. Ample amounts so that even I can eat this time around.
But most importantly, there will be a man waiting for me as I walk down the aisle. There will be vows from our hearts and two rings. A man that I will live the rest of my life with. My whole world will be right there in that moment. And I cannot wait.