Two Weeks

Two weeks from now, I will be in Hawaii, and four days from my wedding. We will officially, legally, be a "we," although we have been a "we" since about July 25, 2005. Our first date was July 8, and I can honestly say I was in love with William on our second date. I didn't tell him that until much later, but I was.

I remember what he wore. It was a hot, hot, fry-eggs-on-the-sidewalk July afternoon. He had on this baby blue t-shirt and khaki cargo shorts, and I can remember thinking, as my hair whipped around my face while driving down the freeway with him that he was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen in my whole life, and he had been in front of my face for years. It was our second "date," although we were just hanging out, and I think it was a Sunday afternoon.

We beat the heat by going to the mall for a while, but neither of us really wanted to shop. So we went into Barnes and Noble, and we sat on the floor and looked at art books together. As if that wasn't enough to capture my heart, we went home, and he wanted to play me a song on his iPod. We listened to it togther, one earphone for each of us, sitting so close I was sure he could hear my heart beating.

I get butterflies just thinking of that moment.

The chemicals in our brains don't really allow us to return to those fleeting first moments of dating, where, at the time, it feels like agony, but later, you sometimes wish you could recapture. but when I think about him, tan and handsome in his light blue shirt, twinkling hazel eyes (oh, his eyes) and offering me an earphone, I get all twitterpated and giggle.

I am more in love than I could have ever imagined a person can be. Maybe that's totally sickening. But it's completely true. william makes me laugh like....forty times a day. He treats me with respect and kindness. He goes shopping with me. We have funny conversations, we have serious conversations, and sometimes we just sit silent in front of the tv, or he paints and I write. We usually disagree what music to listen to, but we like the same kinds.

I have a true partner in William. In every sense of the word. I feel so lucky. So, so, so lucky. There is no doubt in my mind that he is the person I want to be with for the rest of my life, and that is fulfilling in a way that I cannot even describe. It's overfilling, more than fulfilling.

William came home from work yesterday and says to me: I was planning to go on this bike ride, but now it has to get moved. And when they changed the date, I just automatically said yes, since I wanted to go. Then I realized it was two weeks from now, a nd we'll be in Hawaii! We're at the point where people are making plans in advance, that are not so in advance, and we won't be here.

The excitement on his face showed. I started to laugh.

William says: We are leaving in TWO WEEKS.

I say: I know!

And we just sort of stare at each other, like . . . this is it!

This. Is. It.

I have dreams every night about all the things that can go wrong (and do), but oddly, I don't think about those during the day. it's been an overwhelming almost-two-months during this layoff. Tumultuous does not even begin to describe the peaks and valleys of the last 50 days. I feel like I'm at that point on a rollercoaster where you look down before the first drop and think, We are not going any higher than this. This is already way too high.

I know we have a few more chik-chik-chiks before we reach the top and I can look down with certainty that this is it, the top, are we ready? And then my stomach will be two stories above my body, where suddenly the chain lets go and I hear almost nothing at all except the sharp intake of breath I'm saving for the most exciting moment.

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.