**DISCLAIMER: If you know me or him IN REAL LIFE, please do not get too excited; these plans are quite far away in the future and not happening anytime soon.**
So we’re not ones for overtly cheesy cards/gifts/proclamations of enduring love and eternal romance.
However, what with a nine year anniversary coming up, talk of buying a house and decorating it, plans for elopement and those eternal bands of jewelry and the celebratory party afterwards; the sappy romantic in me has surfaced. And it’s somewhat embarassing because corny romanticism is so NOT me or us; and I’ve never been comfortable running around the world shouting how wonderful he is, or how perfectly we fit within each other.
Additionally, I made a promise to myself that I would be totally honest in this blog despite having given the URL to several friends and family (most of whom probably don’t remember or read–or so I may be stupidly assuming).
It’s just so strange to me, this process we’re going through in the precious alone hours we have. Finding a ring. Finding a ring that fits into our lifestyle and onto our heavily abused hands; one that matches; one that means something; one that is uniquely ours. Who we will include in the secret; who will come with us; where we will go; how we will tell everyone else after we get back; what sort of party (“reception” whatever.) we’ll throw in our own honor when we get back.
These discussions are so different. So new and completely foreign for us. It’s an entirely new thing to go from “One day in the future so very far away from the right now we will have THIS and we will make sure to also include THAT…” to the “How about THIS? Do you love it? I do. Let’s remember THIS.” of our new conversations.
And it’s all so simply sweet and somewhat scary, but we’re on the same page; we’re clasping our hands and looking into a new reality but one that we have always known has been there.
It’s so strange. And a small part of myself wants to run around and tell every single person I see but a much larger part wants to hold it close; keep it secret; keep it just ours; because I’ve always believed that speaking too much of love causes its greatness to be diminished.
And what we have between us, it is too great a thing. Actions are not adequate enough, there are no words big enough to encompass all of it. It’s so pure and solid and there is nothing we can do or say that can fully explain it.
But it is ours. And it is so perfect.