The crazy wedding dreams are officially in full swing.
My last few sleeps have been riddled with veils, bouquets, and things I have forgotten.
Example:
Some texts Josh got first thing yesterday morning.
I'd also watched the horrific bloody episode of Downton Abbey just before bed, which didn't help.
Everyone told me I would have these dreams. It's perfectly normal that my brain would take my subconscious wedding anxiety and run with it.
To the African Savannah.
Of course, who wouldn't have anxiety leading up to their wedding? Marriage is the biggest decision you will (probably) ever make. You (usually) only get one wedding day. Only a fraction of people getting married are actually good at event planning.
And Wedding Land is a giant, confusing maze.
Example:
I went bridesmaid dress shopping last Friday with a couple of my ladies. When we got up to the counter after choosing dresses, we were told that it would take SEVENTEEN WEEKS for their dresses to come in. That's mid-May. February just started yesterday.
Why do things in Wedding Land work differently than things in Real Life?
Why does my brain feel like it's full of feathers?
Why do I see flowers and skirts when I close my eyes before bed?
Right now it's easy to choose to think about the wedding rather than the marriage. I've heard this before and thought DUH, but the struggle is real, y'all. Not that I don't think about how I'll be married forever afterwards, but a wedding seems more tangible and immediately concerning.
(And fun. I mean, PARTY, DRESSES, DANCING, CAKE. Wedding = cake. Marriage = crockpot meals. What would you daydream about?)
Then things happen to remind me that I'm in the process of becoming united with another person.
Like, a full-grown human being.
Not a pet or even a baby, but a man who will call the final shots for him, me, and however many little humans we have.
Example:
Last week, my phone began giving signs of imminent death. It was old and I'd known its end was coming, but I'd been hoping it would wait until July.
Oh well.
It was literally swelling up, which is never good.
Josh and I thought that we might as well start talking phone plans and budget, because now would be a good time to consolidate our plans.
I thought this would be somewhat simple, and it was...not.
There wasn't so much conflict as there was the realization that both of us had different ideas about how this would work (Finally, a money disagreement! WOOHOO!!!).
What we would've done as individuals wasn't what was best for us together, and we had normal miscommunication and minor hurt feelings.
It was eventually resolved via a cheap replacement from the Apple store and Josh deciding to hop onto my plan (we think, at least), but it gave me a moment of pause.
A moment to ruminate on the enormity of the step I'm about to take.
I'm not just changing my last name.
I'm turning in the independent-lady identity that I've been working so hard on the last six years.
Josh and I will make decisions together, yes, but in the end, he will follow the Lord and be the head of our house--or apartment--or whatever. As dad put it, "Two people on one horse--somebody has to be the leader."
I didn't realize how much I like to be the leader until the dumb issue with the cell phone.
And--GEEZ--I'll have to start sharing.
Guys, I love my big bed. I love stretching out ALL OVER IT. I love solitude in the morning. I love occasionally buying my own healthy cereal and fancy chocolate and being the only person eating it. I love the ability to go where I want when I want to.
When I get married, I'll have to share my sheets, my mornings, and maybe even my chocolate.
And Josh is a sheet thief.*
There's a difference between knowing this and really feeling it. I'm grieving over the fact that, after saying the words, "I, Laura Love, take thee, Joshua Davis, to be my lawfully wedded husband," I will be giving up a significant part of who I am.
I won't even be Miss Love anymore.
Laura Davis will be a great name (albeit a common one) and the change is entirely worth it (nobody will be able to find me online!).
Marriage will be sanctifying.
I obviously need that.
Josh, too, will be giving up a lot to be my husband. His independent identity. His ability to go where he wants, when he wants to. His ramen noodle dinners and closet space.
(I was going to add "his sheets", but he still won't be sharing those.)
Marriage will have so. many. great. times.
But I think it's ok to savor my final days as Laura Love.
*note: I don't know this from PERSONAL EXPERIENCE--just Josh making it abundantly clear.
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