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Archive for the 'My Wedding' Category

The Future Mrs. Worm

Thursday, February 12th, 2009

I realize that - originally - this post was filled with Latin lorem ipsum and I apologize for that (if you're a writer or designer & don't know what 'lorem ipsum' is, I highly suggest clicking on that link).  I uploaded the photo of us in Nashville and forgot to "un-publish" the blog post until I could actually write something on it.  Here is what you should have been seeing:

On Christmas Day, as I sat - with a bad cold - feeling miserable at my computer desk and dreading the rest of the holidaze visiting and traveling we were going to have to do, Baret asked me how I felt.

"Like crap," I muttered.

He stepped out of the room, but I thought nothing of it until he returned holding a little black box.

My pace quickened as he handed it to me and asked, innocently, if that would make me feel better.

My mind was screaming, "Nooooo! That is terrifying!  Feel better?!  I feel like I may have a heart attack!"

But I simply nodded.  He opened the box, got on one knee and told me he loved our life, couldn't imagine living it without me, and that he wanted to let me know he meant it, he was serious, that I was the woman for him.  Then he asked me to marry him.

At this point, all I could stutter out was, "Are you serious?"  (Very romantic, I know)

He snapped the box shut, laughed, and put it on my desk, teasingly telling me, "No, not at all.  It was just a joke."

I smiled weakly and said, "OMFGWTFBBQ THIS IS NOT HAPPENING TO ME!" (in my head) and, "Yes", aloud.

I then stuck out my shaking hand, and he slid the ring - too big, he said we'd get it resized - onto my finger.

It felt like a 100 lb. weight.  We hugged and kissed; I cried a little.  I was...confused.  On one hand I was thrilled, excited, and so in love with my sweet, near-perfect man in that moment.  On the other, all of my previous fears about marriage (remember, I've never seen a happy one) were crushing down on me, and my childhood voice rung in my ears, "I'm never getting married!"

Saying "yes" was going against everything I'd ever sworn to myself.  It was a step I swore I would never take.

I reasoned with myself, though.  I will never - as long as I look - find another Baret.  Everyone wants one!  If I had a nickel for everytime someone said, "Everybody needs a Baret!" or "Everyone loves Baret!", I'd be able to quit my day job.  It's just that he really is that amazing.  And he loves me - adores me, even.  He takes care of me, helps me be more stable, and makes me laugh - constantly.  He lets me be myself, while also helping me improve my less responsible qualities.  I am a better person because of him, and that is simply the truth.  As much as I fight against his sage lessons about "being a grown-up", it does seep in and I do change - for the better.

Also, let's be honest - not many men are jumping at the chance to live with and take care of a semi-handicapped mate.  Besides the perk of lifetime good parking, there are a lot of cons that come with dating me.  Baret has been there since the beginning - before I was so disabled - and has helped me get to the point I am today (almost completely self-sufficient).  He doesn't mind pushing me around in a wheelchair when I need it or packing my seat-walker into the car.  He's not embarassed to walk beside me when I use my cane (which I'm supposed to always do, per my doctor, but which I generally don't because...well, would you want to?).

After the shock wore off, I became more comfortable with the idea; even a little excited about planning the wedding (which I, also, said I'd never do because Mom taught me at a young age that weddings were a "stupid waste of money").  That became deeply ingrained in me and I'm having a hard time with it.  As soon as I get excited about something wedding-related, a part of my brain begins to scold and mock me, "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"  But Baret and I talked it over, and he said he really wants a nice wedding - the whole me walking down the aisle towards him-bit.  He says he only ever plans to do this once (I never planned for even that much!) and the fact that he loves me enough to marry me means he wants to do it right.  That meant a lot to me.  Especially since most guys don't give a crap about the actual wedding and want nothing to do with its planning, but Baret has been excited and very patient as I drool over colors, flowers, décor, dresses, and locations in magazines and online.  He doesn't roll his eyes or look put-out when I discuss colors with him or go over the cake top we want.  He is genuinely interested in planning our wedding together.  I'd be a fool not to marry this guy, believe me, I know!

My sister is getting married in early October, so most family wedding planning is focused on her right now, which is awesome.  I can get some ideas helping her out (she made me cry when she asked me to be her maid-of-honor and of course I asked her to be mine...she's my sista!)  My sister deserves all the happiness in the world, she's suffered a lot, and the smile on her face these days brings joy to my heart.  She's very happy, and that makes us all happy.  Naturally, I wish she and Blake all the happiness in the world.

For me, I'm pretty convinced I've stumbled upon a goldmine of a guy.  Letting him go would be a mistake (not that he'd leave if I'd said "no" but still).  It's taking our relationship to the next level, making a promise to one another, showing the world how much we love one another.  After seven and a half years together, five of those actually living together, I don't expect there to be many surprises.  Still, I sort of get goose-bumpy thinking about tackling things in life as a married couple.  Now that I've let myself embrace the idea, it doesn't seem as horrifying as it once did.  I mean, I'm marrying Baret.  That right there makes it...totally cool.