You called me sugar.
Click to viewWe're getting married in 286 days. A little less than 41 weeks. A little more than nine months.
The wedding is taking place at Stonehurst, which was the home of Robert Treat Paine, way back in the 19th century. It's all stone walls and ivy and sprawling rooms and grounds that look like something out of a fairy tale. Enormous trees that must have gnomes living in them. Stone walls curling around the lush green grass. Meadows filled with wildflowers and tall grass. Wooden floors and paned glass windows for dreaming out of.
Every day, I look at Kyle and I love him even more. I never thought that this could happen, not when I boil it down. Of course, I've always thought about puppy love gushing onwards into the end of time, but never of this sort of solidity, this committed thing that isn't a feeling as much as a knowledge. It's the knowledge that this person isn't going to make your life a utopia, but that the harder things are easier to bear when you're sharing the load. The knowledge that they're smiling that way because of you and that the reverse is true as well. The knowledge that even if things don't work out, you can handle it because you have each other.
Even today, after we've spent pretty much a month in each other's presence 24/7, I'm not sick of him. The things about him that could annoy me simply don't. I'm sure there will come a day in the next however many years we have together where I'll want him to be quieter or go away or something along those lines, but right now...I can't imagine wanting that because he's a part of me, part of the making of me, really.
Life lately has been kind of sucktastic. I'm so desperately in the red financially that it's terrifying, and I just want to live in Massachusetts again, but I'm happy. I'm incredibly happy...because I have Kyle.