ChickSpeak

Mr. R-my fiancé, better half, best friend, and biggest fan-has always been a very upfront, straightforward man; the strong and silent type, if you will. On our very first date, for instance, he not only told me his best friend at the time was female, but also warned if this truth was going to be a problem for me, we should probably not count on a second date. Considering my brood of friends consisted mostly of guys, I shrugged off his statement and told him I honestly did not care.

On the premise, though, she was solely a friend and not someone where he had either had or would eventually would be having conjugal visits-I was NOT interested in being cheated on (which should not come as a surprise to the majority of you ladies who stick to ‘Girl Code 101′ and its number one rule: do not sleep with a taken man). Some girls would probably have viewed his brazenness as an immediate turn-off, particularly when he followed up his statement about his female best friend by declaring he normally did not date liberal arts majors or blondes, but he would be willing to give me the benefit of the doubt (I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in English and have bright blonde hair, so I was definitely outside his realm of what he preferred). 

Despite his obvious lack of tact, though, I found his honesty refreshing, particularly as he had just spent an entire month pursuing me, despite I turned his advances down at least three times a week…so, I knew behind his John Wayne/Clint Eastwood/typical-cowboy-demeanor, the true man hiding underneath there was someone I could relate to and possibly love. 

Turns out, I was correct. 

We started telling each other those important three little words only a week after our first date, and though my bitter brother warned “If you can fall in love in a week, you can fall out of love in a week,” we scoffed at his negativity, and embraced the fact we had found in each other the pieces we were missing in our lives needed to fully round us out and make ourselves whole. 

Regardless, Mr. R was always adamant he did not want to ever settle down or marry, nor did he ever truly desire any children; both, for me, were absolute musts in my life -I did not want to be a lifetime girlfriend and, even if it took adopting, I was determined to be a mother. 

However, time crept on and I mellowed to the point where I realized if it meant losing the man I loved over some vows and a band of gold, I simply would not make the sacrifice and so I did not pressure him to feel like a proposal and marriage was necessary. Likewise, with the situation of having children, I knew my health history was going to make it difficult to conceive on my own, and (at the time) it was much more important to focus on loving the man I had in my arms instead of forfeiting our relationship for a child I would likely not even have the energy to raise properly. 

So, when Mr. R got down on both knees on the evening of August 25th, with a one carat diamond ring in a princess cut, with a platinum band, and proposed, I was in complete and total shock. I must have said ‘Yes, oh yes!’ at least twenty times in thirty seconds, but it was the moment in time when I realized my strong and silent cowboy wanted the same things I did, just perhaps at a slower pace than I had initially fancied. 

Now, just eighty five days before our marriage, not to go all Disney’s Aladdin on you or anything, but we find ourselves in a whole new world. We have settled into each other like your favorite coffee cup somehow comes to literally ‘fit’ your palm. The abiding feeling of calm you get from sipping out of your favorite mug is precisely the same feeling conjured in my soul when we lie on the sofa watching the news together (and commentating through commercials), use the two ‘wedding talk’ nights we have set aside to make decisions together, and our personal favorite, worshipping at our new home church and praying together, each time hands locked together in a bond only God could put asunder. We truly just belong together and neither of us is too proud to admit it; in fact, it is one of the rare things we both can scootch our pride aside for since we both are known to our friends and family as an incredibly stubborn pair. 

We have learned quickly, though, in the past five months and five days of being engaged just how much more there is to an engagement than merely planning a wedding. You have to plan your life and it is terrifying and exciting all at one time. 

Both of us have parents wishing desperately for grandchildren within the near future (though we hate to burst their bubble, but even if I was healthy as an ox, it would simply not be a good time to welcome a bundle of joy into what will be our new family come April 25th of this year). Though we are only in our twenties, we are pouring meticulously over numbers and prospective ideas to hopefully buy our own home in the very near future and hopefully start some sort of viable savings plan to put money back for emergencies and/or retirement.   

All too often we have seen our peers married just out of college or even high school and they report back to us they are in the middle of a divorce or are even remarried; to us, the thought of using the ‘d’ word as an easy escape route is simply not an option. So we are also trying to ensure in the midst of all these changes, which are easily capable of hurting or wounding our relationship,  we keep the love we have diligently built over the past three years and keep adding to it. We realize just because we are so, so, so close to officially being one another’s both before God and the government, we should not take each other for granted, and how it is our duty to court and pursue each other as if it were our first week together, all over again, thus maintaining an air of mystery and intrigue sure to keep us always craving one another, no matter how much overwhelming stress, sudden changes, huge decisions, or slight, but tragic, setbacks bombard us. From now till the end of time, “I am my lover’s and he is mine” (kudos to King Soloman for such an amazing statement despite its brevity). 

Jessy Garrett was born to be a writer, so she composes articles on a myriad of topics ranging from whatever her heart desires to whatever her editor’s heart desires.  She is in the middle of trying to plan a wedding while trying not to forget that after all the I-dos, wedding cake, thank you cards, and bajillion name changes required, she will be a married woman. This fact both excites her and makes her hope desperately she will be the kind of wife a husband would be honored to have.  Along with writing, she loves being a parent to three pooches (Sue, Jack, and Eeyore) and the aunt to two handsome young men & two darling little ladies (all of which have her & her fiancé wrapped tightly around their little fingers).  She tends to drift towards classic, feminine looks, but dearly loves fashion of any sort and is a firm believer in the power of accessorizing correctly & remembering the mantra, “Quality over quantity.”