It was my wedding day.
It was a day where I would leave a part of my old life behind, and step into something new. And lying there in the quiet of daybreak, I took stock of how I felt. Anxious around the edges - and that was to be expected - but amazingly calm at the center. Extraordinarily happy, on the brink exquisite change.
I was grateful for those quiet, private moments, because the rest of the day was anything but. It was a whirlwind of hair and makeup, last minute plans and pictures. And then, surrounded by sisters, I donned my dress and descended to the crowds below.
Per Jewish tradition, D and I had said good-bye nearly a week before our wedding day, and we would not see each other again until the ceremony began. As I greeted the people who had come to celebrate with me, I felt my anxiety grow. I have never been good with big crowds, and suddenly I was on the biggest stage of all. As the music began, I thought it a miracle that my heart stayed where it belonged, instead of just leaping out of my chest for how hard it was banging.
And then he was there.
The two hundred people in the room blurred into the edges of my vision, as I finally saw my man. In that moment where our eyes met for the first time in days, it was just us, the same as we ever were. My anxiety melted away, and I felt that amazing calm return.
Two years ago we stood before family and friends and said something to each other that was both simple and profound. I choose you. Forever. Always. And we danced and laughed the night away, in celebration of a unique and lasting love. It was a good night, a happy night. Our night.
So tonight, when we both get home from long days away, we will take a moment to celebrate this night, our night. We will look at each other, and we will give thanks for love found, and for really good years. For the two that are behind us, and for all the ones that lay ahead.