What if I said that I love, love. Would that make me less tough? Less cool? I don't know. But I have felt for so long that I couldn't or maybe shouldn't be so excited or so giddy about love, weddings and even my impending marriage.
But in reality, if you stop and think about that for just one second, that is absurd. I mean, really?
I should be allowed to be ridiculous and silly about my love. He's amazing, and I adore him. I should be expected to be pouring over bridal magazines and, nowadays, pinterest, in search of that perfect dress, that perfect veil, those perfect flowers that will all be icing on the cake that is the day I marry the man I love.
The man who knows my heart and has taken it and promised to care for it. He is my dream. And I love him and I love our love. And if someone has a problem with that, well whatever, I don't care.
Because I'm happy. And I'm getting married. And this time, it's to the man I love, and to the man who loves me, my friend.
