Sometimes, the world conspires to make you incredibly, irrevokably happy.
On November 5, in the early hours of the morning, my Sexxy Chef proposed to me.
Of course I said YES!!
The ring is being sized. I can’t wear it for a couple weeks – and that’s ok.
The date has been chosen. Location is 95% sure – I just need to see it again and confirm that YES, I can set up the wedding the way I want in the space that’s available.
Plans… plans… and more plans.
Love happens again. Happiness happens again.
It’s the weirdest thing, being so incredibly, amazingly happy – with that thread of sorrow going through it all.
The guilt of “how can I be this happy when he’s still dead?”
Going through so many things that I did for the first wedding. Making plans.
I don’t even know how to explain it.
I’m ridiculously HAPPY and I want to shout it to the world. I can’t wait to start my life with my Sexxy Chef. I can’t wait to be Mrs. Sexxy Chef.
But I’ve been Mrs. Smith for the majority of my adult life. It will be 19 years of being Mrs. Smith when I become Mrs. Sexxy Chef.
That’s weird to me. Never mind the fact that I’m trying to wrap my head around what will be my new name.
I’ve got an amazing new beginning ahead of me. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But man… did I have to lose so much to get what’s ahead of me?
I’m happy. I’m in love. I’m looking forward to a long, happy, healthy future with my Sexxy Chef.
But I want to tell my Mark all about how happy I am. He’d be happy for me. He’d celebrate with me.
Long live love.