I am getting married.

To a boy.

In an Abbey.

Not only that, but I am getting married in just eight months time.

We went to the Catholic version of ‘pre-marriage counceliing’, and learnt more than we could have ever expected. We learnt how to make ourselves heard in an argument, how to forgive one another, and how to live side by side.

We learnt much of what we already knew, that relationships are hard work, but that in the end, that hard work reaps the rewards.

I never thought that this day would actually come, the day when I could feel truly loved.

Loved for being me.

I know they always say there is something special about your first love, but I would have to disagree. Nothing in the whole entire world will ever come close to the love I feel for the man that I am marrying.

Our relationship has been discussed by many.

“They rushed into everything way too quickly.”

“They are too different from one another.”

“It will never last.”

So really, I am writing this as a massive finger to all the haters out there (as that is about as Ghetto as I get).

You’ve actually done me a favour. Thanks to you I have managed to purge out the negative and fill it with the positive.

No one has a perfect relationship. We do not live in the movie-made world of beauty and romance. We live in a world where love is hard. Love is dangerous. Love is complicated.

But what I have come to realise is this.

Love is only love, when love is worth fighting for.

Life can throw you some proper cr*p sometimes; you can feel like everything is running smoothly, then

Smack

Bang

Wallop

Your whole world falls apart.

And then you remember that someone loves you. You are getting married to the man of your dreams. The man who will stand by you through anything.

And while noone is ever perfect, your love is, because being imperfectly perfect is exactly what you’ve been searching for, and to you, that is what your love is.

 

And here is a photo of our imperfectly perfect love: