43 Days Until I Do

In less than 40 days, I will be flying through space and eventually touching down in Maui—paradise—with my fiancé at my side.

My luggage will not get lost. They will let me bring the dress on the plane. We will get an upgrade to first class. There will be champagne.

Right? These are my dreams. We will have a non-turbulent, smooth flight and I will be Xanaxed out and feeling strangely fine, anticipatory, excited and scared, as I have been feeling lately. I will tell everyone who will listen that we are getting married. We will get off the plane and get lei'd, we will get a car, and we will spend our first (second-trip) night in paradise with William's parents, as they were kind enough to offer their lodging for our first night's stay.

Friday morning we will rise with the waves, get some breakfast, and head over to the licensing office for applying for our marriage license. We will not get lost on our way. We will sign all the forms and giggle over the absurdity of becoming adults, of doing adult things like apply for licenses and vow to be together forever. We pick up my family that night from the airport, and make our way to the house they have rented in south Maui, near the beach where we will be wed.

We will spend the sunsoaked weekend with cold, sweaty-glassed mai tais, our happy families, the salty taste of the ocean in our mouths, the sun on our very sunscreened faces. No one will get burned before the wedding. Or they will, and it won't matter.

Monday night, William will go sleep at his parents's place. I may have to take another Xanax. I'll get everything ready for the next morning, bring out the dress, steam it if needed, make sure all the details are taken care of. Hopefully we'll still be on Minnesota time, because we will be wed at 9:30 a.m. the next morning. I will rise early, probably leaping out of bed like the first day of school, except it will be the first day of the rest of my love life. I will manage to get fake lashes on. We will make it to South Maluaka Beach on time, everyone in tow, happy, ready. I will not cry too hard when my dad lets go of my arm. I will say my vows and mean them.

Afterward, there will be mimosas and food and swimming and joy. Joy joy joy. Family and close friends and hugs and tears and huge smiles. All this anticipation has led to this, this celebration, these words, these feelings and I will be a married woman, waves crashing and tropical breezes scented with ocean and plumeria, and warm sand scratching our feet. And William will be my husband, not any more my groom, not any more my fiancé. He will be my husband and I will be his wife. It will be the first days of the rest of our joined-love life.