Right Where WE Should Be

Last night, after spending hours talking with our pastor and his wife, about everything from conflict resolution to Barry White (bow-chick-a-wow-WOW), I returned home to “my” apartment, for the last time.

Though I am ecstatic to marry Mikael, and anxious to begin OUR life together, I explained to him as I was leaving that I was also glad to have one more night alone.

After 27 years of them being the norm, the only life I’d known, it seemed important I have one last ceremonial evening to myself.

So, I entered my quiet apartment, and got ready for bed. I peed with the door open – knowing that’ll be the last time I do that for a while. And I put on my ugliest, comfiest pajamas (tattered pants and a Mexican beer t-shirt I bought for 50 cents once – its super soft, but not nearly so sexy).

I checked the locks. And turned out all the lights. And then, I crawled into my giant, empty king-sized bed, squeezing my poor, stuffed Elmo tight as I drifted to sleep.

To be honest, the night wasn’t as poetic as I expected. I was too tired to scrawl in my pink cupcake journal, the way I did for decades before my love came along.

And I didn’t feel any different when I woke uncharacteristically early this morning.

But even though last night didn’t really feel like the rite of passage I had expected, I did wake up feeling incredibly grateful… grateful that soon I’ll spend my evenings with two arms wrapped around me…. grateful that I’ll have a strong, thoughtful man to check the locks on the doors before WE go to sleep.

And best of all, I’ll wake up beside my best friend. My confidant. A man that makes me giggle, and makes my knees weak, and who I know, loves me unconditionally ( a fact evidenced by his response to my text explaining my relative happiness about one last night to cuddle Elmo).

What a strange, surreal and WONDERFUL feeling, realizing I’ll soon be Mrs. Jennifer Aguilar. How fabulous knowing it’s at last time to trade in my microwaveable dinners for home cooked meals for two.

I know I am deeply blessed to get to share my life with someone I deeply love, and last night it was that thought that steered my prayers to thanksgiving.

Last night I realized not how far I’ve come, but how graciously the Lord has brought me to this place - to the start of a new chapter, one I’ve dreamed of my whole life.

I thought about how many nights I spent crying over unrequited “love” in my teens, and all the times in college I spent crying on my knees, fearful that true love would never come.

I thought about all the diary entries I scrawled about wishing for someone to simply hold my hand. And I thought about how well Mikael does that, how well he holds me.

And so, tomorrow we will get married, and everything won’t go according to plan. It’s inevitable. I woke knowing full well that there will be snafus here and there.

I might chip a nail. I might trip on my dress. I might spew snot all over Mikael as we’re saying our vows (though I really really hope not, and I’m sorry Babe if I do).

The cake could topple over in transport (no worries Steph; I’ll eat it off your floorboards). It could rain, or snow. This is Texas.

My brother could forget the lyrics of the song he’ll sing. The ring bearer may freak out at the sight of people he doesn’t know, and never make it down the aisle.

BUT, I’m not TOO worried about any of that, because I know what a blessing it is that I will, make it down the aisle.

Tomorrow I will take steps to the man I am choosing to marry, I will look him in his beautiful brown eyes and pledge my life to him. And then we will get to leave, hand-in-hand, as long as we both shall live.

As surreal as it is to think about where I am today – at the moment sitting on my bedroom floor, surrounded by centerpiece decorations – I really couldn’t be happier – or have anymore peace – about what we’re doing.

Because I know the Lord has brought us to this place. I know He has good plans in store for us. And I know, it is a blessing to be an ALMOST married woman.