There are 145 days left til Sarah and I get married. It’s crazy to think in about four months I will agree before God, family and friends that I am willing to spend the rest of my life with just one person. I’ve accepted my fate. The scary thing isn’t the commitment portion, but the fact that I have no idea what is going on anymore.
Sarah is the mastermind. She is the orchestrator, the coordinator and the brains of this operation, while I’m the lowly errand boy, the Igor to her Victor Frankenstein. The reference might seem dramatic but it rings true. My main purpose is to be moral support. She runs everything by me of course, but Sarah already has a vision for how she wants the wedding to go, so I try my best to make her dream a reality. I understand my role in the marriage planning well. But as time goes by we start to wonder how much of this is really for us.
I’m on the record saying I would gladly trade in this beautiful garden wedding for a quick drive-thru of a Las Vegas chapel, but my family would kill me shortly after arriving from the honeymoon. While we want to have a fantastic wedding that the two of us will remember for the rest of our lives together, we are getting ready to just throw in the towel and head for the “City of Sin.”
It’s hard planning a wedding in seven months. Running away sounds like a viable plan, except we realize it’s not just our day but our families’ as well. It might just be the stress of having to plan a wedding for 200 people in seven months, but I’m starting to feel that we are planning more for our friends and family than for ourselves. We are just ready to start our lives together. This planning stuff is for the birds.