Or so I thought.
Once upon a time, a little girl decided that 22 was the perfect age to get married. And that a December wedding would be a dream come true.
So today was the day that little girl decided would be wonderful for a wedding.
And now it’s come. And he hasn’t.
Full Disclosure: I’ve never been engaged or in love. And sometimes I’m sad about that.
// edited April 3, 2016 : I’m engaged! //
Yet this isn’t a mopey post. I have things to do today. Like coach my favorite sport, go to a birthday party, take pizza to a friend with a new beautiful baby, and reread the monstrosity that is the final book in my series.
But just for a moment I’d like to commemorate the death of a dream, on this day where once I thought I’d be in a white dress walking down an aisle on my daddy’s arm.
I hope this encourages someone, speaks to a woman who perhaps was the same little girl that I was.
Who would actually pull out a calender and pick the December after her 22nd birthday and say, ah, yes, that will do nicely.
I chuckle at that little girl now. But I am thankful for her, so thankful for her. Because she dreamed big, even to the point of picking out a date with no man in sight.
There is still no man in sight, but I hand this dream over to the one Man who has never let me down and never will. He has made so many dreams come true (some so much sooner than I thought) that I sincerely do not mind this one having died on the day I thought it would become reality.
He knows what’s He doing, and I love Him for it.
Have you ever had a dream die like this? Quietly in the mist of a Saturday morning? Or bright and big like a fireworks display?
// Dear reader, six months TO THE DAY after this post was published, I met him. And now I’m marrying him. //