A Letter To Our Reverend
Hi everyone! I have to apologize as I have been neglecting my blog lately. I’ve been a bit uninspired given many changes that have occurred both at work and personally. I don’t want to go into detail but rather fulfill one of the tasks posed to both Ryan and me from our reverend—Reverend Mills. He’s asked for us to provide him with a bit of background so he could incorporate it into our ceremony. As I was putting it together I thought it might make for a fun blog post. Now, I have to warn you—this post is utterly sappy and personal. If you’re not into that sort of thing then please consider this your hall pass and stay tuned as I’m in the process of editing my last Petit Vour box, a type of post you may be more accustomed to seeing on my blog.
While this is a short post it has been brewing in my mind for so long. It’s been one that I still don’t feel is complete and one I may amend before our big day. If any of you have had to create such a letter, or better yet have written your own vows—what was your experience like? When did you feel like you were done? Did you ever really feel like you were done putting it together or that it properly represented your feelings? I certainly don’t, nor do I think I’ll ever get to that point.
Dear Reverend Mills,
I’ve been in love with the idea of falling in love ever since I can remember. At an early age, Ariel and Eric epitomized everything I hoped to experience one day—sweet romance, courageous undertakings in the name of love and a happily ever after. That feeling/idea grew stronger and strong the more I watched my favorite movie. Of course, as I grew up, that epitome slowly dwindled away—at least the prospect of it actually happening IRL.
Once I hit puberty, and started kissing and dating a few frogs, and kind of feeling like I’d actually fallen in love with one or two of them, I came to the conclusion that my idea of what true love was, wasn’t as clear cut as I’d envisioned as a young girl. Love came in many forms, shapes, and degrees of intensity each time it surfaced but none of these occurrences came close to evoking that can’t eat, can’t sleep, reach for the stars world series kind of thing I thought love would feel like. ( - at least in the short term as long term, how would I survive without nourishment?)
As I was settling into the idea that an enduring, insatiable sweet love would never be mine, I turned to Jane Austen. It was the middle of a semester—February-ish— and while I should have been focusing on mastering the concept of compounding interest, I couldn’t help but reread one of my favorite novels. This time around, Mr. Darcy acquired a new face and build—tall, blond, slender & blue eyed. Like Mr. Darcy, Ryan was focused, determined, smart but a bit oblivious to my affection towards him. It wasn’t until after spring break that he got a clue thanks to his friends, and finally started being more receptive. Soon after he noticed, a whirl wind romance erupted. We joked & gushed at what had been and what could be long term. For the first time in my life, I was completely swept away by a real man; one that surpassed my ideal of Mr. Darcy.
Four years later, after living together for over a year and a half—that overwhelming weakening affection, has transformed into a strong sense of belonging an effervescent affection that completes me. He inspires me to work toward becoming a better person given that he is so driven and kind. And while I know we aren’t perfect, we are perfect for one another. He is the calm to my storm; and the sweetness to my semisweet; the gravity to my kinetic energy. He is literally the man of my dreams. Thankfully, I am blessed enough to wake up and delight in knowing that he is real, and that he loves me, just the way I am…and that’s why I want to marry him.