Okay. It is officially getting real to me. We went to the courthouse, filed our paperwork and left with a tentative marriage license in hand.  In exactly a month from now I will be Mrs. Royshawn Harrison. I honestly wasn’t expecting to be a nervous wreck, but anxiety has reared its head. I am not doubtful about marrying him. Marrying him is the only thing I am sure about. It’s the embarking on a new journey, accepting a different lifestyle than I have been used to.  It’s the change that has me ready to hyperventilate. I want to be a good wife. I want to have a successful marriage. In this age of temporary matrimony, I don’t want us to be a statistic. I don’t want to be a fairy tale; I just want a lifetime to spend with him. For this commitment phobic girl, a relationship like this was a long time coming. So I definitely want it to be forever.

This past week I was invited by Shawn’s aunt to the church’s Young Women’s Ministry meeting. I thought this worthy of mentioning because of the group’s reaction to being told I was getting married. Everyone, most of whom were complete strangers, were positively elated. The sentiment among this group of Black woman, which ranged in age from 30’ s-50’s, was sheer delight at the news of a marriage. They stated how they have attended more funerals than weddings for my generation, and how refreshing it was to hear tell of the latter. I must admit I found this a bit disturbing. Disturbing because as I processed the concept I had to admit there was some truth to it. This made me even more thankful that I put my fear of commitment aside to allow the love of a wonderful man into my life.

One month is going to fly by. Time waits for on one. Especially when you are uber busy; before I know it, the wedding will be upon us. So I am dotting my I’s and crossing my T’s. Finalizing numbers and arrangements with vendors. Lord knows party planning on this scale is exhausting.

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