…Bliss This $%@*#


After being reminded for the ‘umpteenth’ time that the date for my wedding is rapidly approaching – and after much deliberation… I understand now why so many individuals make it as far as ‘just before the altar’ or to ‘just past the altar’ only to have the whole relationship fall apart.

I realise that putting two ‘individuals’ together is never an easy thing, since no two are alike. But that’s what brings you together in the first place, right?! I also don’t believe you ever know everything about your partner until you decide to get married, well, it’s either that or you simply notice it then for the first time. So many couples find themselves in a position where the pressure in the planning and then eventual expectation of what ‘married life’ should be about – simply kills the relationship. Because it’s all too hard or it’s all too complicated or it’s simply not as much fun! It’s a contract people. With a very expensive party, but granted, there are certain expectations surrounding it. And although I didn’t have these silly, fluttery sensations to begin with – I am still a girl at heart who very much wants it to be the most perfect day ever! *stargazed look and dramatic orchestral music cue*

My darling ‘husband-to-be’ has never been overly-ambitious, in that, he’s not the DIY or gardening type – however does have an extensive ‘chilli plant’ collection. Neither does he wish to travel or adventure and the thought of evening, beach side/sunset walks, weekends away and anything remotely romantic is so far over his head he has neck trouble because of it… So this is the situation – With the quite apparent ‘less than two months to fallout’ and the imminent ‘BOOM BOOM POW’ of the 23rd of July quite precociously lurking, I had a near emotional break-down on Friday. So I decided that we needed to get the ball rolling by getting some of the smaller, niggly-er thingys out of the way. I’m not in a position to complete the programmes, as my bridesmaid has been in another city for more than a month with her very sickly sister, neither can I decide on the song lyrics I wish to use to fill the back page and I am not certain how to term the Magistrate who will be marrying us, so the service slips are also incomplete. The items such as the wine for the tables, rings and anti-nuptial agreement (which still has to be drafted) – all of which being responsibilities designated to my fiancé. A fluctuating guest list with far too many declines and simultaneously acceptances, what with certain individuals happily inviting other individuals NOT listed as their respective partner or ‘plus one’… Then the minor matter of me wanting to change everything I do already have… So this brings me to Sunday afternoon.

I decided that I would spray paint certain of the decor items so as to more fittingly comply with MY colour scheme – which for my own sanity, I had to tackle and simply get out of the way. My fiancé, who by his friends, had been removed to a pre-bachelor party the night before, had been sleeping, an actual impossibility with two and at times three, noisy children causing chaos. He awoke and was pleasant, considering the headache and threat of retribution at my knowledge of the aforementioned ‘night out. The entire time I had been inwardly venting. Thinking how this…this… man, had gone out, and was sleeping, and once again was getting out of doing anything ‘wedding related’…and… to my surprise, firstly actually helped me and secondly without having to be asked! So there we stood, in the dining room – unwrapping the precious glass and metal holders, while he handled the removal of the actual ‘handle’ mechanisms, I clawed at the gooey price stickers. After which we braved the icy winter wind, stray leaves and mounds of mobile dust particles to get this finished. I felt better. Once completed and packed away to prevent further dust collection until their wondrous display in July, I thought how upset I would have been had he not helped. Thinking about why I would have been upset, actually makes no sense. How many Saturday and Sunday mornings does he not run off with the little munchkin, but only after bringing me breakfast in bed – and then departing to allow me to have my sleep in. How many thoughtful, yet practical gifts have I not received. How many other special ways does he surprise me and treat me like gold, or something precious.

After having experienced a few women on their final legs of unwed life and the months leading up to their ‘big day’ – and after having promised myself that I would not turn into or become one of those melodramatic, near-psychotic, moody and unreasonable females. It has already happened. The change has occurred. I can only think this is how werewolves must feel about their metamorphosing around the time of the full moon. On Friday, feeling this nearly suffocating pressure – I had shed more than a few tears, jostled with the notion of cancelling the wedding and wondered if I was marrying the right man, and all because I didn’t know whether my bridesmaid would be back here in time, if non-repliers would simply ‘pitch up’ on the day, if the flowers would arrive as planned, if my dress would be as I’d imagined and if I’d successfully manage to lose another 20 Kilograms in the next 6 weeks!! All of which had nothing to do with him actually.

So where am I going with all this? The fact is, “…You throw stones at those you love…” So now I know I love him. And I have established that although his powers of telepathy are a little lacklustre, his affinity for being able to tell when he should simply get up and do, without me having to ask – and having the compassion to know that my psychosis is not directly aimed at him, makes me sure of my decision. Yes, I am sure that between now and the wedding, I will undoubtedly question my decision to wed (this man specifically) and the want to abandon the false freedom associated with not being married. I have no false ideas that marriage is nothing but ‘sunshine and roses’ and that we will gallop off into the sunset. Am I scared and apprehensive, yes. But as much as I have mood swings, erratic behaviour, unreasonable outbursts and overtly irrational notions… he won’t win cabinet maker of the year. But based on what I’ve heard about most men during the planning stages of their weddings, things between the man and I are actually better than ever 🙂


It's All In The Details...

It's All In The Details...

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